So I Guess This is My Life Now
by RuinedFox
Summary: After the Avengers saved New York from the Chitauri, Clint needed a break. Luckily, Percy was happy to provide somewhere to take said break. Or that time Percy ended up housing an Avenger and found himself becoming sort of a safe haven for more than one hero. Things get interesting. Not that he's complaining.
1. Hawk

**Greetings,**

 **So I had this idea a while ago and this document has been sitting in my folder for ages, so I thought I'd finish it and post it. I am a sucker for Percy Jackson/Avengers crossovers.**

 **The timeline in both universes is set back a bit. Also Civil War doesn't happen in this story. Sorry, my friends, but I have other plans...**

 **Percy Jackson Universe: After The Last Olympian**

 **Marvel/Avengers Universe: After Avengers movie and the Chitauri Invasion**

 **I don't know how often I will update, but each chapter will be a story in itself (kinda).**

 **I love feedback!**

 **Without further adeu, on with the story!**

 **Chapter 1 Hawk**

Clint wasn't getting paid enough for this. Seriously, he needed a raise.

It had been three weeks since the Chitauri had invaded Manhattan, led by Loki, and the Avengers had sprung into action and saved the day. Three weeks since he'd been rendered senseless and forced to fight his own partner for the benefit of some Asgardian trickster.

Really, he was fine. Loki hadn't done any permanent damage, if you didn't count the reoccurring nightmares that plagued him some nights.

He just needed to get out for a while. Take a mission, some time for himself. The usual. Nat had offered to accompany him but he'd waved her off.

"It's a simple mission," he'd said. "Piece of cake."

Of course, that simple mission found him on the receiving end of a chase through the streets of Manhattan in the middle of the night. The fire escape had been the only option and, to be frank, Clint wasn't in the position to be picky. He'd pulled himself up and crouched with his back against the wall, his figure masked in shadow. His arm burned and he felt something wet trickle through his fingers. He grimaced.

He'd been better.

Below, men in dark clothing moved quietly, searching with low beamed flashlights. He could just make out their guns, ready to pump him full of lead.

Maybe they'd look up and miss him. Maybe they'd not look up at all and leave. The SHIELD agent kept as still as he could. He didn't dare make a sound. Yeah, he could wait it out. Just wait for them to leave and high tail it to SHIELD for a report. He'd laugh about this with Nat tomorrow. Just a little longer and he'd be safe.

Then the window opened.

Clint shot forward and slapped his hand over the window-opener's mouth. "Shut up if you want to live," he hissed.

In the dim light of the city, he saw that he'd just scared the living daylights out of teenager. _Oh hell._

The teen nodded quickly. Clint removed his hand and the teen _silently (oh thank goodness)_ glanced down at the alley below. He ducked backward quickly. A flashlight shone its beam a few metres to the right of the fire escape.

Clint held his breath, forcing himself to stay as rigid as possible until the light passed on. That was too close.

The teen tapped his arm. He motioned inside.

Inside was dark. Inside was good.

Clint didn't hesitate.

The teen helped the agent through the window and shut it, pulling the blinds down. He peeked out through the blinds. Even in the darkness, Clint could see that he was as tense as a rope, his shoulders stiff and his right hand clenched around something.

After a few tense minutes, he said, "They're gone."

Clint allowed himself to relax and sink to the floor, the tension and adrenaline of the situation giving way to a wave of fatigue. But he wasn't out of the dark yet.

"I'm going to switch a light on," the teen said quietly. There was a click and a small lamp illuminated a small, but tidy bedroom.

In the dim light, Clint got a good look at his saviour. The teen had dark, unruly hair that stuck up in all directions, likely from the fact that he'd been asleep minutes before. He was well-built, about sixteen, with perfectly tanned skin. A jacket with the words GOODE SWIM TEAM across one arm had been thrown over his pajamas. Brilliant sea green eyes looked him over for a moment before the teen reached under his bed and pulled out a first aid kit.

"I'm guessing those weren't your friends," he said, rummaging through the kit. "What'd they get you with?"

"Knife," Clint replied, a little stunned. The teen nodded as if he'd just told him the time of day. "Is it a regular for you to find someone on your fire escape?"

"Not really," the teen said. He pulled out a roll of bandages. "Well, I thought you were…someone else." He gestured to Clint's arm. "Let me see."

Clint eyed him with suspicion. He was overly calm for someone who had just helped hide a bleeding man.

"Dude, chill. You're going to get blood on my carpet. If I wanted you dead, I'd have left you," the teen said in exasperation. They locked eyes, sea green against ice blue, neither one of them willing to back down. The agent was trained for this sort of thing. He could go all night.

But he really didn't have all night. His arm burned and he could feel the blood seeping through his fingers and he's lost a significant amount of blood already. And the kid hadn't done anything to deem him untrustworthy, rather the opposite.

With a huff, he held out his arm. The kid scooted closer and peeled Clint's sleeve up so get a better look at the wound.

He cleaned it gently with water (When had he fetched that?) and dressed it with antiseptic which stung, but the agent was used to that after years in the field. The kid seemed to know what he was doing, Clint had to give him that. He must have guessed what he was thinking because he said. "I get into a lot of fights. You pick it up pretty quickly."

He wrapped Clint's arm up tightly in clean white bandages and gathered up the bloody gauze, depositing it in a nearby wastebasket.

"I'm Percy, by the way."

"Clint."

"So what'd you do to have those guys on your tail?"

"Bit of everything," Clint shrugged, wincing slightly. "What were you doing opening the window to a stranger?"

Percy just raised an eyebrow. "Man aggravates guys with bow and arrow in the middle of the night. I know this is New York, but seriously." He paused. "Actually I don't really want to know. You can keep your secrets, dude. I thought you were my cousin."

"Your cousin comes through the window?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Let's just say he doesn't know how knock on a regular basis."

There was a pause, not an uncomfortable one, to his surprise. It blanketed the small room, welcoming after his chase through the city.

Percy fidgeted for a moment before he broke the silence. "My mom made cookies earlier. Or, um," he glanced at the clock. "Make that yesterday. You want some?"

Clint shrugged. "Why not."

"Sweet." Percy opened the bedroom door and padded into the hallway.

Clint took the time to get a proper look around the room. It was a typical teenager's room, though much neater than most. A picture of Percy and a pretty blonde girl was framed on the desk, along with a couple pictures with an old man in a wheel chair and a large boy with dark sunglasses. The desk was also covered in school notes, though a number of them were written in what Clint recognized as Greek. The kid must be taking a course.

The only thing out of the ordinary was a large cow(?) horn that was sitting on the shelf above his desk. A souvenir, perhaps.

The teen reappeared minutes later with a plate of…blue cookies, closing the door softly behind him. He must have seen Clint's puzzled expression because he cracked a grin and joined him on the floor. "The blue's an inside joke. They're the best."

Clint had to give him that. The cookies were delicious. Soon the plate was finished and Percy put the empty plate on the desk.

"What were you even doing up, by the way?" the agent asked.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Ah." Clint didn't push it. Back at the tower, _couldn't sleep_ was a common phrase when you were defending the city from mass destruction.

He wondered what sort of trouble a kid could get into to warrant insomnia. Not that he could talk. Besides, it wasn't his business.

"You're staying here tonight, by the way," Percy said lightly.

"Excuse me?"

Percy huffed in annoyance, like he'd had this conversation before. "You can't just leave after that. Those guys will still be out there. You look like you were hit by a truck and besides, my mom would kill me if I didn't help you. You're safe here. At least catch a few hours."

Normally, Clint would have refused point-blank, but something stopped him. An odd sense of tranquility washed over him, quieting the usual paranoia that came with his job. He actually did feel safe here with his kid who couldn't be more than sixteen. He seemed like the type of guy who would help anyone who came his way, that loyal friend who would have your back no matter what. That wasn't something you could fake. And Clint was a good judge of character.

"Fine."

That earned him a lopsided grin. Percy moved to the cupboard and pulled out a spare blanket. "Do you want the bed?"

"The floor is fine."

"Suit yourself."

Clint spread out the blanket beneath the window and Percy turned off the light.

"Night, Clint."

"Night, kid," he said softly. Clint listened to the teen's breathing even out and then he too, dropped off to sleep.

He woke up just as the sun began to peek over the city, his internal clock telling him that it was almost three in the morning. His arm had been reduced to a dull throb and his head was surprising clear. He felt oddly refreshed after such a night and only a few hours of sleep.

He lay there, listening. Percy was still fast asleep. Clint got up silently, not wanting to wake up his kind host. He folded the blanket neatly and put it on the desk chair, and found a spare sheet of paper and a pen, scratching a messy note.

 _Thanks, Kid._

Clint looked around the room one last time and slipped out the window.


	2. Spider

**You guys! When I posted this story I totally didn't expect the amount of feedback I got. I am blown away by your responses and it was all so encouraging. To all those who reviewed, thank you so much, I couldn't stop grinning while reading them!**

 **I'm so glad you enjoyed the first chapter and, yes, I do have more in store. The lengths of the chapters will vary depending on the content and to be honest, I don't know how often I'll be able to update. But, never fear! I will update.**

 **I've had most of this chapter finished, but I couldn't get the beginning right. Or the ending, for that matter. But it's done and I really wanted to post it today.**

 **Before we begin, I'd like to point out that in this story, I'm not actually following any of the Spider-Man movies, but when I wrote this, I had Tom Holland in mind because I may be a little obsessed with his portrayal of Spider-Man. To clear timelines up, Spider-Man was in action during the Chitauri Invasion, though he had just recently received his power and wasn't as known to the public.**

 **With that out of the way, on with the story!**

 **EDIT: now with less spelling errors :)**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Spider**

Saturdays in the Big Apple were always busy. The abrasive honking of car horns and the blaring of music from every street corner were the norm of the bustling city for as long as anyone could remember, not to mention the occasional wailing of sirens when some criminal tried to push their luck.

Today, however, the city was quiet, though that hadn't turned out to be a bad thing just yet. The weather was stunning. The sun glinted off the glass that lined the buildings of the great concrete jungle and there was not a cloud to be seen in the sky. It wasn't too hot, and a cool breeze wound its way through the trees of Central Park.

People milled around, relishing in the beautiful weather and taking the opportunity to do some shopping and spend some time in the sun. It seemed that even the villains had decided to forgo their usual fun and games and take the day off.

Not that Spider-Man was complaining.

The city was still recovering from the Chitauri Invasion a couple months ago. Even as the hero did his daily patrol, he could see signs of damage and construction throughout the city. Manhattan had taken the brunt of the damage way more than most places. Trees had been uprooted and bridges collapsed. A number of the water pipes had exploded, though no one could quite figure out how that had happened. Heroes had come out of the woodworks to help with the cleanup while the Avengers and SHIELD worked tirelessly to help keep the peace and send out relief workers to other cities.

Spider-Man had spent the morning swinging through Manhattan on a mission. He didn't normally stray too far from Queens, but his Spider-Sense had gone crazy, though not in the watch-out-someone's-trying-to-kill-you way. It was softer, like it was trying to pull him in one direction. So he'd followed it and had ended up on the roof of a bunch of apartments, totally confused.

Even weirder, he swore he smelled a sea breeze, but he was nowhere near the ocean.

Spider-Man sat cross-legged on the lip of the roof. The warmth of the sun soaked through his suit, though not to the point that he was burning. It was nice here. It was like all the tension accumulated from months of crime fighting melted away leaving him calm and relaxed. He wasn't even worrying about that assignment he'd barely started that was due in a few days. Honestly, he felt like he could sit here all day.

"Hey Spider-Man!"

Spider-Man looked down to see a teenager leaning over the fire escape and looking up at him.

The teenager looked about a year older than him. He had perfectly tanned skin, which would have made the arachnid slightly jealous if he himself hadn't just been swinging over the city. He held up a plate of blue cookies.

"They're fresh out of the oven. You want some?"

Now how could Spidey possibly turn down the offer of free food?

"Don't mind if I do," he said and dropped down onto the fire escape. He perched himself on the railing, and pulled his mask up to his nose. The cookies were amazing, and they melted in his mouth. Fresh, warm. Amazing.

The teenager grinned. "I know, right? Mom makes them perfect every time. I'm Percy. What are you doing all the way on this side of Manhattan?"

Spidey shrugged. "I'm following something. What that is, I have no clue. My Spider-Sense is going crazy. I followed it and ended up here." He didn't know why he said that, but he felt comfortable here. With a stranger. No, not a stranger. Percy, who gave him delicious cookies.

"Well," Percy said. "I'm glad you came. Maybe it was telling you that the cookies were out of the oven."

"Man, I wish that's how it worked."

The two of them chuckled at the idea.

Percy leaned against the railing and looked at him. His eyes were a brilliant sea green. "Anyway, I wanted to thank you for helping out around here. I know people don't trust you just yet, but I know a lot of people who wouldn't be around if it weren't for you."

"Aw, you're welcome," Spider-Man replied. "All in a day's work for you Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man. But I can't say I've done as much as I should have. I'm no Avenger."

But Percy shook his head. "The Avengers keep the city safe, but you're keeping my home safe even though Queens is your usual territory. Also you're much more approachable than Iron Man. And cooler. Seriously, my girlfriend loves Mr. Stark, but he's so out there. He's too much like Dionysus and Apollo mixed together." He made a face.

"Comparing Iron Man to Greek gods would totally boost his ego through the roof," Spidey said.

Percy chuckled. "You have no idea."

A horrible thought bubbled to the front of his mind and Spidey looked down at the half-finished plate of cookies. "You're not going to get into trouble for talking to me, are you?" Percy looked at him with a frown etched across his face. "Why would I?"

"J. Jonah Jameson has it out for me," he explained. "He's trying to hire people to find me. You know, out of the suit." He'd rather face the lizard again than have someone be arrested for helping him.

"I don't think they'll be much of a problem," Percy said. An amused look crossed his face, and he tilted his head to one side. "Actually, I'd like to see them try. Besides, they're too dumb to think to look for a teenager and actually catch you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Spider-Man spluttered.

Percy laughed. "You might be able to fool the adults, but I can tell. I've known a lot of heroes. I'm not going to ask how old you are, don't worry. I'm one of those fans who actually respects others' privacy."

"Well, thanks."

There was a pause while they munched on the cookies. Spidey looked around. There was a small plant growing in a flower pot. It was an odd silvery colour that he'd never seen before, which was strange because he lived with his Aunt May, the flower fanatic.

His Spider Sense buzzed slightly, humming a fraction louder when his eyes caught strange symbols around the window to Percy's room. Naturally, he asked about them.

"What?" Percy glanced up at the Omega symbol that was painted above the window and the trident beneath it. "Huh, I can't say I've ever noticed those." There was an odd note to his voice, but Spidey brushed it off as confusion. "I'll have to ask my dad about that." He paused before shrugging. "He's into the whole Greek thing."

That ocean breeze wafted through the air again, reminding Spider-Man that he'd yet to finish his patrol.

"I'd better get going," he said reluctantly, pulling down his mask. "Places to be, city to patrol, the usual. Thanks for the cookies."

"No problem, man," Percy said, straightening. "If I was working to keep the city safe, I know I'd want cookies. I hope you find whatever you're looking for. Oh, and you're welcome to drop by whenever, by the way. My fire escape is always open and I'm sure my mom wouldn't mind feeding the Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man."

"I may just take you up on that offer." Spider-Man gave him a two fingered saluted and swung away.

His Spider-Sense had quieted down to a soft thrum that dulled as he moved further and further away. It dropped off softly.

Spider-Man swung through the city, finishing his patrol and heading back to Queens. As he slipped into his own room, he closed the blinds and pulled off his mask and fell back onto his bed, grinning. He'd made a friend. Not only that but a friend who didn't care who he was regardless of what others said. Peter wondered if he'd meet Percy outside of the suit. Probably not. They didn't call it the Big Apple for nothing. But still, that would be awesome!

"Peter," his Aunt May called from downstairs. "Lunch is ready."

"I'm coming, Aunt May," he replied, quickly changing out of his suit and into something much less inconspicuous. He hid his suit in the back of his cupboard, still thinking about his new friend. He looked in the direction of Percy's apartment and his Spider-Sense hummed quietly in the back of his mind. With a grin still on his face, Peter made his way downstairs knowing that he'd found what he'd been looking for.


	3. Explanation

**Author's note is at the bottom.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3 Explanation**

Percy watch the wall-crawler swing away. He liked the hero. He was more inclined to have a proper conversation with his fans than say one Tony Stark, and he meant it when he said he didn't care who he was underneath the mask.

 _Ha. Wait until I tell Annabeth!_

But that aside, he had more important things to worry about. Percy put a hand on the Omega rune, feeling a thrum of energy course through his veins. Definitely magic.

He climbed back through his window, taking the empty plate with him.

"Mom, I'm going out," he called as he dashed through the living room.

"Where are you going?" Sally Jackson demanded from the kitchen. Paul was helping her clean up her baking supplies.

The two of them were going out to dinner tonight, which was cool. They deserved it. They worked so hard, and he could hold down the fort for one night without blowing something up so that they could spend some time alone together.

"I need to talk to Dad about something." Percy said.

A flash of worry clouded Sally Jackson's features and she wrung her hands in the cloth she was holding. Percy felt a stab of guilt. She'd been like this ever since the Titan War, not that he could blame her. It might be calm now, but something could happen at any time. He didn't like to worry her, which was why he'd jumped at the idea of his mother and step-father going out for once.

"It's nothing dangerous," he reassured. "I'll be back soon. Can I take the car?"

Paul gave him a thumbs up. "Just, you know, watch out for Pegasus. I had a hard time explaining that to the car shop."

"Alright," his mother relented, "but be back for before we go, Sweetie. I want to make sure you're settled before we leave." She gave him a hug, and he was off.

Percy drove to the nearest beach, parked the car out of the way of any sort of potential mythical intervention, and, making sure the coast was clear, walked straight into the water.

Atlantis was still under construction. All around him were mere-people hard at work moving stacks of sea stone from one side of the city to the other. The outer wall was finished. It had been the first thing to be rebuilt since, even after the war, there was still unrest in the ocean.

Most of the rubble had been cleared away and the new and improved inner defences were almost finished. Triton, prince of Atlantis, was overseeing the construction. He waved at Percy and he swam over. "Father said you might come. He's in the throne room."

"Thanks man," Percy said. "Say hi to Tyson for me." Triton grumbled a response before resuming his work directing the construction. Their relationship had improved considerably since the war, which was something Percy was grateful for. His half-brother was pretty cool when he wasn't acting all stuck up.

Percy swam through the palace halls, greeting people as he passed. Most of them returned the greeting, others narrowed their eyes at him and pointed him in the right direction, as if he didn't already know the way. Oh well, he couldn't please everyone.

Poseidon was conversing with one of his servants when Percy entered the large throne room. He brightened considerably when he saw him. "Percy!" He crossed the throne room in a few strides and embraced his son. "How are you? How's Sally?"

"Hi Dad," Percy said as his father looked him over, probably checking to see if he'd managed to get into yet another fight since they'd last seen each other a week ago. He didn't mind. It was nice to have his father care about his wellbeing even after the war. "I'm fine. Things are all good at home. Atlantis is recovering well."

Poseidon beamed. "Yes. The new game room is almost complete." His expression turned serious. "But you're not here to look around, are you? You saw the runes?"

Straight to the point. Another reason to like his godly father. He didn't dance around the subject like some other Olympians did. Not that he was pointing any fingers, of course.

"Yeah," Percy said. "What are they?"

Poseidon dismissed the other people in the room. "It was my sister's idea."

"Lady Hestia?"

"Of course. Do you think that Hera would think of it?" Poseidon flicked his hand and two throne-like chairs appeared. "Take a seat, I've been meaning to talk to you."

Percy sat. His father claimed the other chair. "Listen, Percy," he began, "Olympus took a major hit. Brother doesn't want to admit it, but we did. As you might have guessed, over the years, demigods have created safe houses all over city. They are not as maintained as they once were. Most have been abandoned to monsters who now dwell in them, using them as a way to trap demigods. Even within the borders of Camp Half-Blood, there are sections that have been barred since the Second World War."

Poseidon's eyes softened. "Your mother opened her doors to demigods in the past. That was one of the many reasons I fell in love with her. She was so kind even though she didn't yet understand who she was helping. But back to the point. A couple of Olympians have decided that the safe houses should be reopened. You've been chosen as one of the guardians, though your task is different."

Another quest? Percy's mood soured slightly. They'd just won a war. Could the Fates not let him rest for a few months this time?

Poseidon wasn't finished. "I can see the look in your eyes. I know that you're tired of fighting, and if I could, I would have you sit this one out, but we need you again. Olympus needs you."

Annabeth had once told Percy that the Olympians would be lost without him. It sure seemed that way when they threw one quest after the other at him. There was literally no way that he could refuse. His father was still a god, and he was still a demigod. Besides, it seemed like everything was already in motion whether he liked it or not.

"Okay," Percy sighed, "Okay. You mentioned safe houses. What does this have to do with Spider-Man? He's mortal…with some enhancements. Does this have something to do with the new prophecy? Because I am so not ready for that."

The god of the sea shook his head. "The prophecy of the Seven may not happen for a long time, but mortal evils are stirring, Percy. These new mortals, these heroes, there are more and more every day. They are good at heart, but there will be times were they will need help. Somewhere they can go to seek help. The Olympians had decided that you will help them."

"So," Percy said slowly, processing what he'd just heard, "you're telling me that heroes are drawn to the house? My home is a safe house?"

Poseidon nodded. "That is correct. Your home is now protected. Already, two heroes have come to you."

Huh, he'd been right. Clint was an Avenger. That was cool. "But why didn't you just tell me?"

Poseidon sniffed. "Have you met Thunder Pants? You try reasoning with him."

If he was on the surface, Percy would have heard a low rumble.

"I know this isn't what you expected after the war, Percy, but it is necessary," his father said. He seemed a little older than before. More grey hairs speckled his salt-and-pepper hair and his face seemed slightly more weathered. That didn't take away from the smile he gave Percy. "The runes you saw act as a magnet, but they also keep away danger. No monster or villain will be able to come near. In fact, from what Hecate told me, they won't be able to find it. Any expenses concerning the heroes' wellbeing will be paid."

That was definitely a bonus. They were no longer tight on money, but the idea of not having to spend excess amounts _was_ appealing. And meeting the city's new heroes was the dream of most kids his age. Maybe he'd get to meet Captain America. Now _that_ would be awesome!

But the notion that he'd no longer have to worry about his house being a target for monsters was what really sold him. Percy had stayed up late some nights worrying that he was attracting monsters to the house just by staying there. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened to his mother or Paul because of him. With this arrangement, he wouldn't have to worry. His home, his mother would be safe.

This could be fun.

* * *

Clint passed Percy's window again a few weeks after his first visit. Percy was actually glad to see a familiar face. The past few weeks had been wild. He'd told Annabeth about the arrangement, and of course, his mom, who had made a point of making sure there were always spare food and blankets in case someone dropped by, demigod or superhero. A gold credit card had appeared on the kitchen table, curtesy of Hermes, which was awesome.

So far, he'd spotted some of the Defenders in the area, Iron Fist nodding to him as they went passed, saying something cryptic about chakra and dragons. Spider-Man came to chat sometimes as well. Demigods had dropped in frequently, some faring better than others. And of course, the Avenger knocking on the side of his window.

"I guess this is my life now," Percy muttered to himself. Still, it was better than the looming prophecy that may or may not happen his century.

"How long will you be staying," he asked, not even looking up from his algebra homework.

Clint climbed in and shrugged. "My friends are driving me crazy. I hope you don't mind me being here."

Percy made a face at the equation. "Must be hard living in a tower full of superheroes."

Clint spluttered behind him. "How did you know?!"

Percy gave up on the question and spun in his wheelie chair to face his guest. "You're all over the news. Besides, it wasn't that hard to guess. The only other fully grown guy running around here with a bow and arrow is Hawkeye." You know, aside from Apollo. He turned back to his homework. "There's a spare blanket in the cupboard. Kitchen's stocked. No one's home."

Clint disappeared and reappeared a few minutes later with a bag of crisps. "Quick question. Why are you not freaking out and why do you have enough food to feed an army?"

Percy snorted. Technically he was feeding an army of Demigods. "You're not the only hero to drop by. Have you _seen_ how much Spider-Man eats?"

"The Wall-Crawler?"

"Do you know another?"

"It's a little dangerous, don't you think?"

"I can handle myself," Percy replied. "This way, I can give back to the city." Without dying in the process, he added silently. "My girlfriend helps me keep it in order. You should meet her."

Clint dropped by every week, looking for a place to crash. One time, the Black Widow showed up looking for him. Percy, gobsmacked by the assassin sitting at his desk waiting for him, sent her in the right direction. She'd nodded thanks and disappeared. She became a semi-frequent guest.

Annabeth insisted on meeting the two Avengers. She'd stay the night, camping out in the room, sometimes for a few consecutive days, until they showed. Not that he minded. She pestered Clint with questions about the Tower and anything Tony Stark related. Clint would snicker and respond with the weirdest and most appalling stories that occurred in the Tower. Natasha even added a times, which Percy thought was cool since she never said more than the bare minimum. Though both he and Clint were little worried when Annabeth and Natasha got along a little too long.

It was a strange life for the son of Poseidon, but he grew to enjoy the chance meetings with the people who helped keep Now York safe. In the span of six months, he'd met more heroes than most people did in their lifetime.

He loved it.

And then Hera happened.

* * *

 **Hey! Wow, you guys really enjoyed the last chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one too. Your reviews were awesome!** **So this chapter was much longer than the previous ones. It was originally two chapters, but I didn't want one to be horrendously short compared to the others. The length of the next few will vary on the content. Congrats to mad 4 the doctor for picking up on the runes!**

 **I have no clue when the next chapter will come out, but I am on break, so hopefully in the next few weeks. Check out my other fic for How To Train Your Dragon if you want.**

 **Let me know what you think, and Merry Christmas!**


	4. Disappearance

**Chapter 4 Disappearance**

The city was wreathed with colourful lights and decorations traditional to the mid-December spirit. The ground was covered in a thick blanket of white, the frigid snow having fallen earlier in the week, and thick clouds promised more as the winter season grew to its climax.

The houses and apartments were mostly dark, most of their inhabitants already asleep.

A figure pulled himself nimbly onto the fire escape landing of one particular apartment. He wrapped his coat further around himself, shivering, and unslung the retracted bow from his back. Clint hated the cold. Oh sure, he could be back at the Tower drinking something warm and listening to Tony drunkenly drone on, or Thor exuberantly telling one of his heroically dramatic tales of gods and mortals, but the archer Avenger really wanted to get outside. There was nothing like a quick stroll and a chance to check in with his teenage friend.

Christmas was three weeks away. He wondered what gift he should get Percy. Something blue, maybe.

It was freezing outside. Frost coated the window. Clint shivered again, a puff of white appearing as he breathed in and out. December had hit the city with full force.

He hadn't been able to visit this month. The Avengers had been bombarded by a new slew of villains and complaints from the government members who thought they knew better. Honestly, weren't they the ones that wanted to drop bombs during the invasion?

Clint rapped on the window. There was no answer.

He waited a few minutes and knocked again. Nothing.

Muttering under his breath and trying to quell the uneasiness that had formed in the pit of his stomach, Clint peered in through the glass. Percy's room was empty. His bedroom door was open and light spilled in from the hallway. Percy wasn't here.

He hadn't been in last week either. Clint opened the window and stepped in.

There was a fine layer of dust coating everything. The unmade bed hadn't been slept in. Percy hadn't been here for a while. There was no note, nothing.

"Percy's not here," a soft voice said behind him. Clint turned to see a woman standing in the doorway, a dishcloth in her hands. She looked tired, her beautiful face pinched with worry. Silver streaked through her dark hair. "But you're welcome to have something to eat."

He must have looked confused because she held out a hand. "Sally Jackson. I'm Percy's mother. You must be Clint."

He shook her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Jackson, but I don't want to impose."

"Nonsense, dear," she said, dismissing the thought. "Our home is always open. Come on in. And call me Sally, Mrs. Jackson sounds so old."

He followed her into the kitchen. A fresh batch of blue cookies were resting on the counter. "Don't be shy," Sally said. "Paul's at work, and Percy's not here to eat all of them." She trailed off before shaking herself and giving him a bright smile. "I'm taking over for Percy for a while. Just because he's not here doesn't mean that we have to turn people away."

Clint took a cookie. "Where is Percy? He usually tells me when he's not going to be in."

"He's away helping his father."

Percy didn't talk about his biological father often. Only from off-handed remarks did Clint gather that Percy's father had left the two of them shortly after he was born. Somewhere along the line, the kid had had a reunion when the estranged man. There was no bitterness in his voice when he spoke of him, only a faint sense of wistfulness. Clint guessed that the man owned a business abroad since it was apparent that he owned a decent sum of money if Percy's recounted trips across the state were something to go by. "Do you know when he'll be back?"

Sally shook her head. "No. Sometimes he's gone for days."

There was a slight tremor in her voice. It irked him. "Sally," he said more urgently, the commanding tone of a government agent pushing through, "how long has he been gone for?"

Sally looked away. Her jaw worked and she fiddled with the dishcloth still in her hands. "Four weeks."

 _Four weeks?_ That uneasiness returned tenfold. "Is Percy in trouble?"

There it was, that flash of sorrow in her eyes. "I don't know," she said softly.

Clint was heading to the door in an instant, pulling out his cell and dialling Stark's number. "I can get people to find him. He can't be far—"

"No!" She caught his arm. "No. Percy is strong. He's has a good heart. He'll come home when he's ready. Please, trust me when I say that he will come home."

Trust. Where had trust got him in the past? Even as he asked himself that, he knew the answer. Trust had given him a job, a home, a family, and most recently, a friend in the strange and nonchalant teenager who was now missing and could be in danger. And still, Sally Jackson's trust in her own son was enough to make Clint hesitate.

Sally knew something that he didn't, and he hated not knowing things, but if she felt that Percy needed help, she wouldn't be trying to stop him.

Clint sighed and cancelled the call just as Stark picked up.

 _"_ _Hello—?"_

He'd have to have some way of explaining that, but right now, he had better things to worry about.

"Thank you," Sally breathed. Some of the tension bled from her shoulders. "Thank you. This isn't exactly something that can go public."

How many times had he heard that before?

"You are a brave woman, Sally Jackson" he said.

She smiled. "Would you like some coffee?"

He dropped by whenever he could. Sometimes Annabeth was there as well. She would sit on Percy's bed or on the couch and stare off into the distance. She would talk to him, asking about Mr. Stark's new invention and he'd fill her in as best as he could. She'd pretend to listen, but more times than not, her storm grey eyes would glaze over and she'd excuse herself for a while.

She was hurting. He'd feel the same if his best friend went missing with no explanation and with no way of knowing if she was okay or not. Then again, Nat was an assassin, she could handle herself. Clint wasn't so sure that Percy could do the same.

The heroes seemed to stay away from the apartment. Anyone who had come in the past seemed to know that something was up. There were whispers between them. Any information on the teen would make it back to Clint, right under the noses of SHIELD and the other Avengers. Not that there was anything to report.

Six months passed painfully slowly. Without so much as a warning, Annabeth stopped coming.

Sally gave Clint a strained smile and passed him a mug of steaming coffee. She didn't say anything. They sat there for a long time.

"Hey Clint! Earth to Clint!" Someone snapped their fingers in front of his face. Clint blinked to see Tony standing in front of him, arms crossed.

"What?"

"What pizza topping do you want?"

"Why are you asking me this?" he snapped. "We literally have this conversation every time!"

Tony put his hands in the air. "Sorry! Geez, who threw _your_ arrows in the fire?" He sauntered away to make the call. Six pizzas with an assortment of toppings.

Clint felt a twinge of regret. It was a simple question. He didn't need to take his frustration out on Tony.

The Avengers were gathered in the lounge, doing their own thing until dinner. Natasha was curled up on the couch with a bowl of trail mix (why?), Thor staring out the window and the monsoon weather outside. Bruce was around, probably stuck in the lab.

Steve put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alight, soldier? You've been distracted."

"I'm fine," Clint sighed. "A lot on my mind. That undercover mission in San Francisco is tomorrow. I can't shake the feeling that something's going to happen."

"Have you talked to Natasha about it?" He nodded. "Well, we'll hold down the fort until you get back. It's only four days."

Clint trusted the team, he really did, but still. He had a feeling that whatever happened was something out of their league. "A lot can happen in four days."

There was a crash of thunder. Thor looked up. A frown creased his forehead and he muttered to himself. "The Norns are not pleased."

Whatever that meant.

"Have you seen the news?" Tony asked, flicking on the TV. He'd finished his order and was bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Jarvis just reported it to me. There's a huge storm over Long Island. Came out of nowhere."

"There have been strange weather patterns all over the globe," Bruce said, walking in. "Not to mention the seismic activity. Greece just had a huge earthquake. It was in a remote area, but still."

"It's not something we have to worry about, is it?" Natasha flicked a raisin at Clint. He dodged out of the way of the cursed replacement for a chocolate chip. What he wouldn't do for one of Sally's cookies right now.

"At least it's not another war," Tony said. "I'm too busy for another one."

Thor huffed loudly and stood, walking over to the window. "Your war was nothing compared to the wars of old. Great Gods battling Titans. Giants and Demigods. It was a tremendous age."

"Yeah, well the only battle I want at the moment is the one I'm about to have with my pizza."

Thunder rumbled overhead again.

"Knock it off, Thor."

"Not every storm is caused by me, mortal," the Asgardian huffed. "I cannot interfere."

Clint listened to the rain. It reminded him oddly of Percy. Sighing again, Clint pushed all thoughts of the teenager out of his mind. It had been almost seven months since he'd gone missing. He wouldn't admit it to Natasha, but he was beyond worried. He had to respect Sally's wishes though, no matter how much they bugged him. She still hadn't alerted anyone. If anything, she'd seemed more relaxed. Apparently, Percy had made contact a month ago, but Sally wouldn't tell Clint anything, aside from the fact that he was alive.

He'd drop in and check in the woman and her husband when he returned. Hopefully, that niggling feeling would have vanished by then.

He was out of the tower as soon as he had changed into his civilian clothes. The mission had gone well, but all Clint could think about was that he needed to get over to the Jackson's place. It was like this primal instinct was spurring him onward.

He caught Natasha's eye and she quickly turned to engage Steve in a conversation when he walked in. Clint bolted into the elevator.

It didn't take him long to get to the apartments, but it felt like an age. He stowed his bike and slipped into the alley beneath the Jackson's window.

Someone was on the fire escape.

It wasn't Percy.

Clint's heart dropped. He slowed and hid in the shadow of the building to get a better look.

Thin and pale, with dark shadows under his onyx eyes, the boy looked like he should have been in a hospital being force-fed, not outside this late at night. He didn't look older than fifteen, and yet, a sort of dominating power radiated from him. The shadows at his feet seemed to cling to him as he sat on the stairs.

The boy stiffened and turned to peer down at him. He narrowed his eyes and huffed. He _saw_ him? How the _hell_?

"Percy, your friend is here."

There was a crash from inside and _Percy_ appeared.

"Clint," he called happily. "Come up here!"

The agent couldn't get up fast enough. He hopped over the railing and practically crashed into the teenagers. The dark-eyed kid shuffled out of the way, but Clint barely registered him.

He couldn't believe his eyes. There he was, the missing kid himself grinning like an idiot. "I've missed you, man."

"Where have you been," Clint demanded.

Percy huffed a laugh. "A lot of places. Come inside."

The three of them piled into the room.

"Clint, this is my cousin, Nico," Percy introduced. "We go to camp together."

"Nice to finally meet you," Clint said. "Now I know who Percy mistook me for the first time I here with armed men on my tail."

Looking back at it, Clint probably shouldn't have mentioned the armed men.

Nico's lips quirked up slightly. "It's nice to meet one of the only adults who can actually put up with my cousin."

He turned to Percy. "I'm going to head home if that's okay with you. You've got some catching up to do, and Will and Hazel will both kill me if I'm late. Tell your mom that I appreciate the cookies." He held up a box of said cookies.

"I'll tell her," Percy replied. "Get home safe, Nico. And no _shortcuts_." He emphasized the last word.

Nico rolled his eyes and disappeared out the window.

Percy picked up a plate of leftover cookies. "Cookie?"

Clint crossed his arms and stared at him. "You went missing for months. No note, nothing."

Percy set the place back down and rubbed the back of his neck like he did when he was nervous. "It was… not my choice, believe me."

"What happened, Percy?"

A haunted look passed over the teen's face. He was thinner than the last time Clint had seen him. His grin was a fraction smaller and he looked tired. "A lot. I promised I'll tell you one day. I don't really want to talk about it right now."

Clint nodded. He was dying to know, but he could wait. Percy was safe. Yeah, he could wait.

Percy perched on the edge of his bed. A beaten up backpack was slung over the foot board. "So tell me what I've missed. Mom filled me in, but I'm betting you know more."

So Clint stayed long into the night, talking quietly, telling Percy about all the missions he'd been on, what the Avengers had been up to. Percy listened intently, asking questions and laughing when Clint told him about his latest victory in the four month prank war between him and Tony that had resulted in dumping a gallon of pink glitter into the air vent fans in the genius' lab.

Dawn dusted the horizon by the time he slipped out through the window.

"Say hi to Nat for me, man," Percy said. There were dark shadows under his eyes. The agent was only leaving with the promise that both of them should get some sleep, and in Clint's mind, the teenager looked like he could use some well-needed shut-eye.

"Yeah, I will. Expect her to drop by."

With a two-fingered salute, the agent dropped down the fire escape and into the alley below. He rolled his bike out of the alley and got on. He glanced back at the Jackson's apartment. The bedroom light flicked off.

Clint revved his bike. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. There was way too much that he didn't know, even after the hours talking to Percy. The teenager was tight-lipped, but it didn't take a shrink to see that something had happened, something terrible. But he was home, and he was in one piece. That was more than Clint could ask for.

That soft pull of the apartment tugged at him for the first time in far too long. He grinned in spite of himself, and pulled into the quiet, empty streets just as light spilled across the City that Never Sleeps.

 **Hmmm, it's been a while...**

 **We have now reached the world beyond the Blood of Olympus. Our heroes can breath a sigh of relief, and it looks as if it's clear skies from here onwards. I do not intend to follow the Trials of Apollo series because I actually haven't read them, so whatever happens next...well, I've pretty much got free reign. (Mwahahaha!) I'm not sure when the next one will be up, I've got a lot of other writing that I'm working on at the moment. For those of you wondering when the other Avengers will make a proper appearance, don't worry, it's coming.**

 **Sadly, I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olymians, the Heroes of Olympus, or the Avengers and other Marvel characters. If I did, I would cry, and then promptly combust.**

 **I hope you enjoyed the longer chapter. Let me know what you think!**


	5. Panic

**Chapter 5 Panic**

Clint had always been a night owl. It was a habit pick up from his time in the circus and his training with SHIELD when the nights were the only times he had to himself. He worked better in the cover of darkness when the world was still.

The nights in Avengers Tower had been a shift. He was no longer the only night owl in the vicinity. Tony was always in the lab and he'd come across him downing a fifth or sixth mug of coffee when he snuck a midnight snack, and later stumbling into the kitchen on a couple hours of sleep.

Both Steve and Bruce were morning people, the former going for morning runs while the latter meditated on the roof of the Tower. Natasha would pad in when no one was looking, seemingly appearing out of nowhere and scaring the living daylights out of everyone except him. Ironically, it was the Asgardian who was the last to surface, proclaiming loudly that they were out of pop tarts or that some kitchen appliance had mysteriously combusted.

It was times like these that made him glad he'd joined the motley group of heroes. It was when the sun went down that he felt truly awake. Whether it was spending time alone in the training room brushing up on his aim, or finishing the book that Nat had given him for Christmas. Other times, he'd raid the fridge and, of course, prepare his latest prank on Tony while the man was holed up in his lab, oblivious to the world around him.

Nightmares from the Chitauri Invasion still lingered after over a year, but Clint was a master at pushing them aside. Some nights though, he'd wake in a cold sweat and tangled in his sheets. When it happened, he'd find himself in the kitchen waiting for a fresh brew of coffee. Often times, he wasn't alone. It came with the job, those sleepless nights that had nothing to do with his midnight activities. It was one of these nights that drove him from the Tower to the quiet open expanse of Central Park.

Clint flopped down on a bench and tipped his head back, breathing in the cool night air. Autumn was just around the corner, though it wasn't cold enough to warrant anything more than a light jacket. He closed his eyes, pushing away the image of a tall, horned figure that sneered at him through a haze of blue and red, and the cruel whisper that lingered just outside of his hearing. Once, he'd tried turning his hearing aids off to block it out, but it persisted in the minutes after he woke. Phantom voices, his therapist had said. They'd fade before long.

 _Not soon enough,_ he thought, and instead turned his attention to listening to the rustling of the trees. A lamp buzzed overhead. The grass had been cut the day before, and the faintly sweet scent filled his nose.

A cold, clammy blanket settled on his arm. He cracked open an eye.

The fog had appeared out of nowhere, curling off the grass in ghostly tendrils. A tall figure was wandering slowly across the grass, parting the gossamer curtains. It seemed that Clint wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep tonight.

The figure moved with a limping, unsteady gait. The fog seemed to follow him, winding in chaotic spirals that twisted in on themselves as he ambled in Clint's general direction.

He was probably intoxicated, he thought. Still, something about him made Clint uneasy. His hand inched toward the hidden knife in his jacket. He stood and crept forward through the thinning fog.

The figure stopped. His back was rigid. He lifted his head and stared straight ahead. Clint froze when he recognized the lean and muscular form of Percy Jackson.

What was he doing out this late? And walking in the middle of Central Park or all places?

The agent closed the distance between them. "Hey, kid, what are you doing out here?" No response. "Percy?"

Clint waved a hand in front of his face, but the teenager paid no attention to him. His sea-green eyes were unfocused, staring straight ahead at something only he could see. Sleepwalking. Clint recognized the signs from when Cooper was younger. How far had this kid walked?

He took a moment to inspect the teenager. Percy was wearing a shirt and blue pajama pants that hung off his muscled frame, and he was barefoot. His arms were littered with white scars that raised ridges on his skin. Those hadn't been there before he'd disappeared.

The number one rule with sleepwalkers was to never forcefully wake them up. Did that include sleepwalking across a freaking city?! Clint couldn't leave him, not like this. His hand hovered over the teenager's shoulder, about to shake him gently.

Percy's hand shot out at a blinding speed. Clint ducked in time and felt the air shift as a fist swung a little too close for comfort.

"Woah, hey!" Clint shouted, and threw his arms up to block another blow. It connected solidly and he used the momentum to throw his attacker off-balance. Percy stumbled back before dropping into a defensive stance, one that Clint had seen many times when training recruits. His eyes were wild and unfocused. He was still asleep, be the fact that he was reacting so fluidly, unlike most sleepwalkers, was disconcerting. Nonetheless, maybe that meant that he could bring him around.

Clint assumed a placating stance, hands out in front of him, his weight on the balls of his feet, ready to move. "Kid," he tried again, "it's me, Clint. You're sleepwalking. You need to wake up."

Percy didn't move. The fog around them began to disperse.

Suddenly, he stumbled, clutching his head. "No, no, no. Where am I? Where am I?"

Alarmed, Clint reached out to catch him, but Percy lashed out at him again. He patted his sides as if he was looking for something, and became anxious when he couldn't find it. His unfocused gaze settled on Clint and he took a few steps back, his face ashen in the lamplight.

"L-Luke?"

Clint frowned at the unfamiliar name. He opened his mouth to say something, but Percy was talking again, his voice shaking.

"No, you're not here. I saw you die." He covered his mouth with the back of his hand, the tattoo on his forearm glaringly visible. Tears streamed freely down his face, dripping off his chin and onto the grass. "I…I let you die. I didn't want to, but I did. It's my fault!"

"Percy," Clint said urgently, "it's me. You didn't do anything. It's not your fault." Even as he said it, he knew he was lying. He didn't know. It was times like these that he remembered that he knew literally nothing about Percy, and now here he was watching him descend into a panic attack, believing that he was someone from his past. Someone who had died.

"I failed all of them, Luke." The teenager's voice was ragged as he spoke. "You, Beckendorf, Selina, Leo, Bianca and Zoe, Michael, so, so many people."

"It's okay," Clint said soothingly, trying not to betray how worried he was. "Kid, it's okay."

Percy wasn't listening. "I'm sorry! I tried to save you. I wasn't strong enough."

That was enough, Clint didn't want to hear any more, not when Percy wasn't aware that he was spilling his own secrets. He grabbed his arm, but Percy flinched violently as if scalded. He sunk to the ground and clutched at his chest. "I wanted her to feel what I felt. I wanted to kill her, but when Annabeth looked at me...Annabeth was afraid. She was _afraid of me! I'm a monster!"_

Clint knelt next to the teen, helpless as he watched his friend endure a panic attack. What the hell had happened in those months? He didn't want to find out like this.

He gently grasped Percy's hands. "Percy, look at me. Focus on me. You're not there anymore, you're home."

Those haunted eyes stared at him. "Everything burns," he whispered.

Something in Clint broke as he looked at the trembling teenager, saw the fear and the anguish in his eyes. It wasn't right. He should be worrying about school, not having night terrors so far from home. For the first time in his life, Clint was thankful for his own nightmares, for the fact that they had driven him to the park an hour before. They paled in comparison to the scene in front of him.

From the moment he'd met Percy, he'd noticed the odd wariness that swam beneath his open demeanor, in the shifting of his eyes and the way his fists clenched at his sides every now and then. He wore a constant mask, joking and talking about everything and nothing when the agent come to visit, showing him yet another signed note left by a wayward hero or complaining about school. But there were times when he thought that no one was looking that the mask slipped and another side of the teenager was revealed, one that was fractured and coming apart at the seams.

It had got worse in the weeks since he'd been back. His smile was smaller, tired. There were dark shadows under his eyes, similar to those under Annabeth's storm grey ones when she came by, an obvious sign of sleepless nights. Small things made him jump: a car door slamming shut, a child screaming, the barking of a dog. He positioned himself so that he was close to exits even when Clint or Natasha came for a visit. He slotted his mask back into place when his mother was around, plastering on a smile and hiding his shaky hands, his façade only falling the moment she left.

It seemed that his mask had finally shattered.

Slowly, careful to not make any sudden movements, Clint wrapped his arms around the teenager and pulled him closer. Percy didn't fight him, instead grasping his hand in a fierce grip. He buried his face in Clint's jacket, and sobbed. Clint rubbed circled on his back with his other hand, trying to palacate the tremors that wracked the teenager's frame. He shifted into a more comfortable position. The grass crackled under him, brown and crisp.

"I'm right here, kid," he murmured. "I'm right here."

They sat there for a long time, Clint murmuring to him as he cried. The moon lowered itself toward the horizon, the stars grew dimmer save for one constellation that blazed against the dark sky.

Finally, the tremors faded and he felt Percy stiffen.

"Clint?" he asked in a confused voice.

Clint opened his arms. "Hey, kid. You alright now?"

Percy got shakily to his feet. He did a small circle, his eyes sharp and clear once again. "Where am I?"

"Central Park. You were sleepwalking."

"Central Park," he mouthed to himself, his brow furrowing. He cast one look around the park before his attention settled back on Clint. "Did I…Did I do anything?" he asked. There was trepidation in his voice, a sense of dread and resignation weighing down his words.

"Aside from scaring the crud out of me, no," Clint said. He didn't miss the exhalation of relief and the weary sag of Percy's shoulders. "Kid, I know you don't like talking about it, but this is serious. You were having a panic attack in your sleep, rambling on about things that made absolutely no sense." He gestured around him. "You're in the middle of Central Park with no recollection of how you got here and from your reaction, this isn't the first time this has happened, is it?"

The tightness of the teenager's face betrayed him. Clint sighed. It was too early for this. "Who's Luke?"

Percy stiffened. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "He…was a friend. A hero. He sacrificed his life to save us."

"And the other names?"

"They're gone too." Percy sighed. "They were heroes. I couldn't save them." He kicked the ground in frustration. "I feel so useless! What's the point of being able to help superheroes if I can't help my own friends?"

Clint had no answer. He'd been asking himself the same thing for months. How could he help those who needed it when he'd been brainwashed to fight his best friend? Natasha had drilled it into him that it wasn't his fault, but it still bothered him. It made him wonder why exactly Percy housed heroes. There was some part of this that he hadn't figured out yet. He could worry about that later. One problem at a time. "You called yourself a monster, Percy. That's reason for concern. Is this about what happened this summer?"

The teenager's face darkened and for a moment, Clint thought he'd snap at him, but he only sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I did some…things this summer. I made someone suffer and I liked it. She was hurting Annabeth. When I snapped out of it," he wiped a hand across his mouth as if to get rid of a bad taste, "I'd almost gone too far."

"What did you do exactly?"

His shoulders slumped. "I can't," he said. "I can't tell you. It's ugh, it's too fresh. Clint, I feel like I'm drowning. How do you keep on going when it feels like everything you do ends in disaster?"

Memories of Loki's sceptre flickered in the back of Clint's mind. His mission to protect the tesseract had ended with him becoming a puppet for some maniac with family issues. When Nat had explained what exactly had happened after they'd stopped the Invasion and caught the deranged trickster, he'd felt sick. He did terrible things for a living, but at least he'd had control of his actions. That had been taken away from him. Not only that, but Coulson, his friend and mentor, had died because of it.

He could almost hear the man giving him advice with that levelheadedness that he would never possess. Clint's lip quirked. Trust Coulson to come up with advice for something like this.

"You know, my mentor once told me the story of Atlas," Clint said. Percy looked up at him, his mouth twitching downwards slightly. "You've probably heard the story before. He was a Greek Titan cursed to carry the world on his shoulders because if he didn't, the sky would fall. He couldn't move, he couldn't ask for help. All he could do was stay where he was."

"Yeah, well Atlas was a jerk," Percy said bitterly.

Wow, okay.

"My point is," Clint continued, "that even if he couldn't do anything, him staying there meant that the sky stayed in its place and the world didn't turn into a pancake. Sometimes the best thing you can do is nothing at all."

The teenager stared at him. "I can't believe you just used a Greek Titan myth to make me feel better. That takes skill, man."

"Hey, I live with Banner. We're all skilled in calming down the Other Guy." He turned serious again. "What I'm trying to say is, I want to help you, kid. It's just difficult when I don't know what I'm up against, but I'll listen. When you're ready."

Percy stared at him for a long moment. "Thanks, man."

With those two words, all remaining tension dispersed. It was a step in the right direction. "It's why I'm here."

A jogger passed them. Percy watched him go. "I can get back on my own."

"Not a chance," Clint cut him off. "I'll walk with you. No arguing."

The teenager gave him a disgruntled look, but didn't say anything. Together, they began the long trek back to Percy's apartment. Percy's window was wide open despite the chill, which meant that he'd somehow sleepwalked down the fire escape. He slipped into his room and gave Clint a tired wave from where he was standing in the alley. The window closed, and the light switched off.

Clint stood there for a long time, straining his ears. No sounds came from the room and, satisfied, he began the long walk back to his bike and then to the Tower.

No one was awake in the kitchen when he stepped out of the elevator. That was fine by him. He lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Finally, he rolled over and closed his eyes.

The events of the park replayed over and over in the hours before dawn.

 **Okay, so it's been a while. My bad :/**

 **I planned on posting this yesterday, but I wasn't happy with it. (I'm still not 100% happy, but whatever.) The reason that this one too so long was simply because it wasn't planned. All the other chapters were already mostly written, but with this one, I realized that I needed the aftermath of Percy's quest to be prominent since I believe that it's a large part of his character. I also have little to no skill in writing angst which is weird considering how much of it I read. I apologize for any mistakes. If there are, tell me, and I'll fix them.**

 **Some of you were asking whether Magnus Chase would make an appearance. Honestly, I'm not sure since there's Marvel Thor and then there's Norse Mythology Thor, and they don't really follow the same guidelines. However, I may mention him in passing if Thor were to meet Annabeth later on in the story. In my mind, Magnus Chase and the Valkyries are hanging out somewhere past the scope of my creation, probably eating falafal.**

 **As for the Kane siblings...Ehhhhhhh I haven't got that far.**

 **I've planned some POV changes as well as the integration of other characters in the upcoming chapters so that's next one shouldn't take too long to upload, but you know me, I have no continuity when it comes to updates.**

 **Let me know what you think!**


	6. Relocation

**Chapter 6 Relocation**

"So let me get this straight," Leo Valdez said, waving a slice of cheese pizza in front of him. "You've met one of New York's superheroes and you neglected to tell me? I thought we were friends, Percy!"

"Technically," Annabeth said, "he's met more than one."

Leo put a hand on his chest and threw Percy a hurt expression. "I hear this from your girlfriend. I'm wounded!"

The Seven plus Nico were having lunch at a small restaurant in their downtime before school started again for the spring. It was rare that the eight of them could all hang out at once due to the Romans' duties and the rebuilding of the two camps.

Jason had spent some time showing Frank the Praetor ropes after giving up his position. The son of Mars was a natural leader, which wasn't a surprise to his quest mates, but a massive one to the demigods of Camp Jupiter.

Nico had decided to stay at Camp Half-Blood. After spending the first few days after the war in the infirmary after almost depleting all his power, he now spent most of his time hanging out the Apollo kids, namely one Will Solace. They spent so much time together that Percy and Jason had placed bets on how long it would take for them to get together. He was pretty sure that Piper was running a betting pool that involved most of the camp and a few of the Roman demigods as well.

Leo had returned from the brink of death two weeks ago with Calypso and Festus in hand, and was almost killed by both children of the Underworld. It took most of Piper's charmspeak and Frank's shapeshifting abilities to keep them at bay long enough for them to cool down to verbal death threats rather than burying the child of Hephaestus.

Meeting Calypso again had been weird, he had to admit, but thankfully, it had worked out. It turned out that, after an awkward introduction, Calypso and Annabeth got along well. Percy and Leo had exchanged glances and both breathed a sigh of relief.

"Dude," Percy said, smacking Leo's hand away as it reached over the table, "you have your own food. Quit stealing mine."

The son of Hephaestus' shoulders slumped. He turned his pleading eyes to Piper who promptly shoved the rest of her vegetarian pizza in her mouth. He looked at Hazel. She smiled and gave the last of her fries to Frank.

There was a flash of light, and Hermes stood next to the table. "Message from Olympus for one Perseus Jackson," he said, waving a letter. "Your presence is needed."

"But lunch," Percy protested half-heartedly.

"Believe me," Hermes smirked. "You'll want to come."

Percy sighed and stood up. "Frank, make sure Leo doesn't eat my pizza."

In a flash, he appeared in the throne room of Olympus. Every god and goddess was present. Hermes had taken his place as well. They no longer towered over him like they had when he had first entered the throne room, instead masquerading in a standard, and more approachable, mortal height. None of them would admit it, but the decision had been one to make them seem closer to their children. They were also much more relaxed after the war, and more willing to engage their children in normal conversations that didn't always involve deadly quests. Percy hoped that it would last.

Percy bowed at the waist, though it was more out of respect than anything else. They'd made it pretty clear that he'd owed them nothing at the end of the war, although the Drama Queen hadn't said it in as many words. It was a nice change after everything he'd done for them.

"Rise, Perseus Jackson," Zeus rumbled.

He did.

Athena gave him a terse nod. He was on much better terms with the goddess of wisdom after the whole Tart—Giant War.

Apollo waved at him from his throne beside his sister. "Cousin, how's my son doing?"

"Fine the last time I saw him," Percy replied. "He and Nico are tag-teaming for Capture the Flag this Friday."

The sun god beamed. "So proud!"

Artemis rolled her eyes at her twin's loud doting. Aphrodite, on the other hand, was giving a thumbs-up to Hades who looked was trying his hardest to look grim.

Zeus cleared his throat and they turned their attention to him.

"Due to the liaison between the two camps," the king of the gods said, "it has come to my attention that the main safe house is insufficient. I have decided that the best course of action is to relocate you to a bigger facility that can house both mortal heroes and demigods of any background."

Percy blinked in surprise. His brain was still processing Zeus' words when Hestia stepped forward from her place at her hearth, and handed him a slip of paper. "Do not worry, your mother's home is still under our protection. The heroes, however, will be drawn to your new location."

"Wait, hold on," Percy said with a frown, "you're relocating me?"

"It's all furnished and ready to go," Athena said. "Aphrodite is proud of her work there. We had to have her tone down a few ideas, but it's up to standard and fully stocked."

Zeus cleared his throat again. "A car will arrive to pick up and your friends up."

He snapped his fingers and Percy was back in the restaurant. Leo was stuffing the rest of Percy's pizza in his mouth while being body-slammed by Frank and Jason. The girls and Nico were watching them calmly, Piper sniggering whilst recording the entire ordeal. They froze when they saw him, but Percy ignored them.

He unfolded piece of paper in his hand and looked at the address written in neat handwriting. He stared at it.

 _Did…did the Olympians just give me a house?_

And what a house it was. _"t my pizzaure Leo doesntifrgof of teh k showere m_

Percy stood gaping at it for at least five minutes before the others insisted they go in. It was a moderately sized house on the outside, two floors and a spacious living room that could be seen through the windows. The trident and Omega rune were glowing above the door.

Inside was another story. He actually gawked. It looked like something a millionaire would live in, not a demigod who wasn't even old enough to own a house. It had definitely been designed by Athena because there was no way that a house could fit that many rooms, and definitely decorated by Aphrodite because it looked like it had been furnished by the best interior decorators in America.

"Someone pinch me, I must be dreaming," Leo said behind him. He yelped when Jason shocked him. "Pinch! I said pinch!"

The living room was connected to a huge kitchen that was fully stocked with more food than Percy had ever seen. A notebook and another gold credit card sat on the island in the middle. He picked up the card and slipped it into his wallet.

A staircase was tucked into the corner leading to the second level. Upon further investigation, they found that there was an entire wall that retracted, revealing a training room stocked with everything a demigod would need, and even more rooms. Seriously he had enough weapons to arm the entire Hermes and Apollo cabins combined!

It was like Bunker 9, but in house form!

Hazel reported that she'd counted at least eight bedrooms and another couple in the secret wing that they had yet to explore. There was a medical cabinet stocked with bandages and ambrosia in both the kitchen and the secret room, and Leo had screamed something about a workshop before raiding the fridge, as if eating six slices of pizzas hadn't been enough.

In the end, the eight of them sat on the couches in the living room and stared.

"Well," Annabeth said at last, "out of all of us, I never thought Percy would be the first one to own a house."

Percy pulled a face at her. She retaliated by throwing one of the many cushions at him. He ducked and it hit Hazel who threw it back.

Percy got up and strode toward a small book on the kitchen counter. The trident and the Omega symbol were embossed on the front. He flipped through it, noting the space for names and places for people to sign in and out.

"What now?"

He looked up to see the others watching him. Percy closed the book and grinned. "I guess I better tell those Avengers."

 **Hmmm, it's been a while. Sorry about that. I've been working on other pieces. I'm also half-way through Lent and I decided to give up reading and starting any new fanfics, so I've been trying to limit my time spent on my two ongoing pieces.**

 **The chapter is also pretty short, but I felt that it needed to be here. It's gonna get a bit crowded at Percy's apartment later on so I thought that the best option was to have the gods make a good decision for once. The next chapter's going to be pretty short as well since I decided to split this one into two. Also, just a reminder that I'm not including the Trials of Apollo or Civil War in this fic since it would totally mess up my plot :/**

 **Youya: Regarding your question in Chapter 5 about whether Clint can see through the Mist, I'm pretty sure that after so long in his line of work, he's got to see some things. I'm just going to go with the idea that he's spent time under Loki's influence and with Thor that he's mostly immune. Your theory about the Asgardians is very interesting!**

 **Once again, I don't own the Avengers, Marvel, or Percy Jackson and the Olympians, but if I did, that would be sweet!**

 **Thanks for the awesome comments, guys! Let me know what you think of this latest chapter!**


	7. Widow

**Chapter 7: Widow**

Natasha Romanoff tilted her shades slightly to peer at the house in front of them.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" she asked skeptically.

Clint waved the slip of paper in front of her. "It's the one he gave me."

When Clint had told Natasha that Percy was moving, she'd been intrigued. She was trained to notice little things and, while Percy seemed mature on most occasions, he was definitely not the legal age to own a house.

Naturally, she accompanied Clint when he went to visit. She wanted to check on the teen after his long absence from the city. Natasha would never admit it, but the whole disappearing act had shaken her. She was a master at finding people, but even she hadn't been able to find him. She hadn't even known he was back in the city until Clint had told her.

The moment she'd laid eyes on Percy, she'd known something was off. His bright attitude was dampened, his smile a fraction smaller. There had been dark shadows under his eyes when he'd invited them inside. When she'd commented about his abrupt disappearance, he'd given her a tight smile and a vague explanation about going to see family.

Natasha and Clint had exchanged a glance and dropped the topic. When it came to his father's family, Percy was a master at avoiding the topic. It didn't take a genius to see that something terrible had happened during those months, and whatever it was, Percy had refused to talk about it. In the time that Natasha had known him, she knew that once he made up his mind about something, nothing short of a miracle could sway him.

Since then, he'd managed to mask whatever was bothering him with uncanny ease. Almost too well for the two Avengers' liking. An untrained eye might have dismissed his newfound guarded nature as uncertainty, but Natasha had encountered enough soldiers to recognize the wariness that flickered across his face when she'd inquired about where he'd been. That was precisely what Percy had resembled that night: a soldier returning from war.

She also knew that it wasn't her place to pry. Everyone had their secrets, and she trusted that Percy would ask for help if he needed it.

They'd pulled up to the address Percy had given them in one of Stark's less flashy cars that the genius had so kindly let them borrow. Clint rolled down the window. Natasha hadn't been expecting much, maybe another apartment or a townhouse. She definitely wasn't expecting the large two-story house in front of them. The architecture was masterfully done, appealing to the eye, but not so obtrusive that it stood out among the other houses on the street. Whoever had designed it had good taste.

Her partner whistled. "So, you want to find a window or knock?"

She'd shot him a glare and got out.

"You suck the fun out of everything," Clint muttered behind her.

Ignoring him, Natasha knocked four times like she did on the frame of Percy's window when she came to visit in the past.

Percy had opened the door with a grin and ushered them inside. "You made it! And you didn't even come through the window. That's progress."

"Yeah, well," Clint glared at Natasha, "some people don't know how to have fun."

The living room was spacious and nicely furnished. It had an ageless feel to it, different the modern look that Stark had designed for the Tower, and something about it made her feel at home almost instantly.

The aroma of something cooking filled the air. Annabeth and Nico waved at them from the island in the kitchen. Natasha had been introduced to the latter a few weeks ago before Percy had sprung the surprise that he was moving. They were in the middle of a card game, and from the Nico's smirk, it was clear that he was winning.

"You didn't rob a bank to afford this, did you?" Clint asked. "I'm not going to get back to the Tower only to find that a bunch of kids have lifted everything off an outlet mall, right?"

Percy laughed nervously and shook his head. "Nico's dad can do pretty much anything money-wise. My dad's family heard about what I was doing and thought that it'd be easier to do it from a house and not an apartment."

The two agents shared a look. The fact that his relatives didn't bat an eye at Percy's extracurricular activities was strange in itself, but for them to offer to buy a house was a bit excessive. Still, they didn't comment on it.

"My mom reluctantly agreed since, well, it gets little unconventional for her after a while," Percy carried on. "But it's only a few blocks down from the apartment, so she's content with that. She's adamant about coming around to have a look when she can."

Natasha did a wide circle around the room again. "They sure didn't spare any expense." Her eyes settled on the far wall. "And the fake wall?"

"You picked up on that, huh?" Percy strode over to the wall and pulled a small lever hidden flush against a bookcase. The wall slid back, and Natasha's eyebrows rose at the sight of another hallway that branched off to the left. At the end, she could just make out another staircase heading down into what she supposed was a basement.

Percy leaned against the bookcase. "We haven't even got around to exploring all the rooms. My friends came yesterday to check it out. Annabeth helped me finish unpacking this morning."

"And the training room?" Natasha strode into the hall, casting a critical eye over the equipment in one of the rooms.

Annabeth entered, her and Nico having abandoned their game for the moment. "That was my mother's idea. She thought it'd be strategic to have one here for heroes. And when I get annoyed with Percy."

"Please don't judo flip me again."

Natasha was impressed. She hadn't been aware that Annabeth could fight. Maybe she'd ask to spar some time.

Clint let out a low whistle and poked his head into the training room. "Is that an archery range?"

They followed him in. The training room was about the size of one of Stark's spare rec rooms. There was indeed a small archery range. Clint unhooked a bow from the wall and drew it.

"Recurve. Heavy draw weight." He turned to Percy. "Which one of you shoots?"

It was Annabeth who replied. "We go to the same summer camp and they teach us there, so we all do to some extent. Except for Percy."

"Hey!" Percy crossed his arms. "Neither can Nico."

"Actually," the pale teen said with a wicked smile, "Will's giving me lessons."

Percy huffed. "Of course he is."

"Will's from the cabin that holds the record for best archery. They're undefeatable," Annabeth explained as Clint, nocked an arrow onto the bow. He drew the it back and shot without looking. The arrow hit the bullseye.

"Well, I'll have to challenge them, then. I am the best archer around. It's all about the reflexes."

Natasha narrowed her eyes and him and crossed her arms. "Stark hit you in the head with a flying wrench this morning."

The teenagers snickered, and Clint scowled at her. "I hadn't had my coffee yet," he replied lamely.

"Yes," Natasha said dryly. " _That_ was why. Keep telling yourself that."

From the kitchen, the oven beeped. "Food's ready," Percy said. He nodded to the Avengers. "Nico pulled up a recipe for Italian pizza so we thought we'd try it out. Have you guys eaten?"

"I could go for pizza," Clint said. They'd eaten before coming, but Clint was a bottomless pit when it came to food.

"I can't promise it tastes any good," Nico shrugged.

"Nothing can be worse than Stark's cooking, trust me," the archer said, already making a beeline to the kitchen.

Natasha took a moment to look around the main room again while the others piled into the kitchen. She wasn't too hungry, but from the aroma of the pizza, she decided it wouldn't hurt to try some.

Her eyes lighted on a book on the table near the door. She picked the book up and leafed through it. A few names were listed with dates and times. Someone had written messages in Greek and Latin. The last page was covered in sketches done in colourful pens. Her lip twitched when she saw a cartoon blue and red spider and a signature amongst the names. Picking up a red pen, she signed her name under a SUPER-SIZED MCSHIZZLE.

The pizza was surprisingly good, despite its lopsided appearance. They chatted amongst each other as they ate, Natasha engaging Annabeth in a conversation about the new classes she was enrolling in the next year and the internship she was looking into.

After they'd eaten, Annabeth and Nico continued their game while Clint and Percy washed up, the latter shooing them away when they came to help. He tried shooing Clint away as well, but the archer ignored him.

With nothing to do, Natasha checked her phone. There was a message from Stark, updating her on the progress of the upgrades he was doing to her Stingers. Another was from Fury, demanding the report on the data collected from their last mission that Stark had neglected to finish. Her lips twitched. She forwarded the message to Steve and moved to the next one.

Annabeth let out an exclamation and threw her hands in the air. "That wouldn't work in real life! The Manticore wouldn't have the same attack power as Athena!"

"I didn't write the rules," Nico said patiently.

"But Athena's a goddess!"

Interested, Natasha slipped her phone into her pocket and glanced at the cards and figurines set up between the two teenagers.

"Mythomagic?" she asked. She'd seen the strategy game in a few stores, and she knew it was notorious for its complicated rules, but she never seen anyone play it before.

"Nico's teaching me the ropes," Annabeth said. She looked down and sighed in frustration. "Was teaching me the ropes."

The pale teenager smirked.

Natasha cast an eye over the cards again, intrigued. "Teach me."

His expression brightened.

An hour later, both Natasha and Nico were tied at three wins. Percy and Clint had joined to watch while Annabeth had started keeping score and making note of the strategies the two players used.

Nico reshuffled the cards. "Do you have time for a tie-breaker?"

Natasha shook her head, checking the time on her phone. "We should be heading back," she said. "It's getting late. The others will be wondering where we are by now."

She stood. "I'll have to come again to beat you."

The teenager threw her a wicked grin. "I look forward to it."

"Thanks for the food," Clint said.

"No problem," Percy said. He grinned, leaning back in the reclining chair he'd dragged over from the living room. "Drop by any time. I'll leave the window open for you—"

There was frantic knocking on the door and a couple teenagers burst in. They all wore bright orange shirts and were carrying another boy between them. The kid's shirt was stained red.

Percy was on his feet in an instant, all traces of humour vanishing. "Annabeth, get the med kit. Nico, check the perimeter." Nico disappeared out the door without a word, and Percy rounded on the newcomers.

"What happened?"

One of the teenagers glanced at Clint and Natasha before answering, "Hounds. Three of them. Came after us in the alley."

Natasha narrowed her eyes at the wound on his arm, rivets of blood dripping on the floor from rows of deep punctures. Those were no dog bites she'd ever seen.

Percy didn't waste a second. "Put him on the couch. Conner, grab some towels from the bathroom. Annabeth—"

"Here," Annabeth was at his side, a first-aid kit in hand.

He nodded tersely. "Clovis, I need water to wash the blood. Travis," He shook the kid on the couch firmly, and pressed his hand over the wound. "Stay awake. Focus on me. Don't close your eyes."

Percy seemed to have forgotten they were there. He knew these teenagers directly, and, now that one of them was injured, he was an entirely different person.

His stance was strikingly different from the laidback attitude minutes before, shoulders tense and body coiled as if ready for action. His sea-green eyes were steely as he focused on keeping Travis conscious, and he spoke with a calm, steady voice. From the way the others responded, they had followed his orders before. His presence took up the room, no longer able to be dismissed, and it commanded obedience. He reminded Natasha of the Captain, but somehow, Percy's demeanour sent shivers down her spine.

Nico reappeared out of nowhere, covered in a fine layer of golden dust. His onyx eyes were narrowed and his hand held his side. The ring on his finger gleamed.

One of them—Conner— had returned with towels, setting them down near the couch. A leather necklace hung from around his neck, identical to the one that Percy wore. He eyed the two Avengers warily.

They'd overstayed their welcome, Natasha realized. She glanced at Clint, understanding passing through them both. They knew their business. And this wasn't theirs.

With a nod to Nico, the two of them slipped out the door.

 **I am so sorry about the wait!**

 **I put this chapter off for so long, mostly because I have no experience writing Natasha's character (I hope I got it right) and because my Spring semester was coming to a close. The good news is that I handed in my last assignment on Monday so I'm pretty much free until September :)**

 **Anyway, I meant to finish and upload this yesterday, but I didn't get around to it. Instead, I had this idea that I needed to write down that somehow ended up going over 20 pages of handwritten work. I was playing around with another Percy Jackson/Avengers fic idea (because I have zero restraint) and I might have grown attached. I'm not sure whether I'll actually type it out and upload it since I've got a whole bunch of other writing to do including the other two fics and my original stories, but it's an idea for the future (maybe).**

 **I shall repay you for the long wait! Aside from some minimal tweaking, the next chapter is done and should be uploaded in the next few days. I'm really excited because it's my favourite one so far.**

 **Thanks for all the amazing reviews! Let me know what you think about this latest chapter!**


	8. Banner

**Chapter 8: Banner**

The need for a good book drove Dr. Bruce Banner out of Avengers Tower.

It had been a perfect day for a stroll. He'd declined Tony's offer to borrow one of his many cars, preferring to walk slowly to the cozy bookstore he'd discovered about a month before, and enjoy the sun as it beat down on the sidewalks.

Tony had been trying to get him out of the Tower for weeks after the Invasion. Thanks to SHIELD, General Ross's manhunt had been called off, and the Hulk was no longer considered a danger to the public. No one knew that Dr. Banner had been involved in the Invasion or that he had even been in the city when it had happened. There was no real need for Bruce to stay hidden, but his wariness of the city, born from so many months on the run, had kept him inside with the insistence that he'd venture out when he was ready.

Eventually, even the Other Guy had become antsy from being cooped up indoors, and Bruce had announced that he was going to a walk. At first, the closeness of the city had bothered him, the crowds of people too close, and the noise too loud.

An hour had passed to find him sitting in one of the many little coffee shops, nursing a mug of tea and just watching the people get on with their day, and Bruce realized that maybe the city wasn't too bad. After getting over the strangeness of being out in the open, the walks were relaxing. He went out often, sometimes accompanied by one or two of his fellow teammates.

Once, his strolls had taken him to a large house some distance from the Tower. He'd stared at it from across the street wondering what had caused him to stop there. It must have been a coincidence that the Other Guy had heaved a content sigh and settled into a slumber in the back of his mind. Dismissing the thought, Bruce had continued on his way.

The bell trilled happily as he entered the bookstore. Bruce smiled at the woman at the front desk, and made his way to the books, picking a few at random and scanning the backs of them. He ordered a non-caffeinated tea from the adjoining café and settled himself at one of the high tables with a couple books.

"I wouldn't want to be caught in that weather."

Bruce looked up as the waiter set his steaming mug down in front of him. He glanced out the window. Rain pattered against the glass, bouncing off the ground with such force that large puddles had already accumulated on the streets, and he watched a poor civilian duck into an opposite building to escape the torrential downpour.

"It looks like I'm stuck here," he chuckled. The waitress smiled and walked away, and he glanced out at the rain again. There had been no sign of rain when he'd left the Tower, not even a cloud. Oh well, he could always call Tony to come get him if the rain didn't ease up.

He took a sip of his tea and looked around. A teenager was fingering through books a few feet away.

It was pouring outside, but the teenager's hair wasn't wet. It stuck up in unruly raven tufts. He didn't have a jacket either. Bruce guessed that he must have missed the freak shower, but he hadn't seen him when he'd come in. Tapping the spine of a particular book, the teenager pulled it off the shelf and set it on a nearby table, his brow furrowed. He was wearing a navy blue shirt with the Captain America symbol printed across the front.

Bruce still found it odd that companies did that. He remembered feeling perturbed when he'd seen someone wearing a jacket with "Hulk-Smash!" written across the back in bold letters. Tony had laughed when he'd mentioned it, and proceeded to show him the new line of merchandise on the market.

A little boy edged his way across the room to the teenager who was adding two new books to his pile. His face was scrunched up and tears were slowly trickling down his cheeks. He tugged on the hem of the teenager's shirt with one hand, the other holding a stuffed Pegasus in a vice-like grip.

The teenager glanced down. "Um, hello?" he said.

"My mommy told me that Avengers are good guys and that they can help me when I'm lost," the kid said quietly. "Are you an Avenger?"

For a moment, the teenager looked confused. He glanced down at his shirt and smiled ruefully. "Sorry, I'm not an Avenger."

The kid's face fell, but before he could start crying again, the teenager bent down in front of him. "But I've met an Avenger, and I don't think he'd mind if I were an Avenger for today. Did you lose your mom?" The kid nodded. "Do you want to go find her?" The kid rubbed his eyes and nodded again.

"Okay. I'm going to pick you up so that you can see." The teenager picked him and balanced him on his hip. "Now we can both look for her. I'm Percy. What's your name?"

"Evan," the kid said, looking around.

"That's a nice name," Percy said, also looking around.

Bruce watched them, enamored by the scene unfolding. The boy had stopped crying and both had identical looks of concentration as Percy moved in a wide circle.

After a minute, Percy asked, "Can you see her?"

Evan shook his head miserably, a few more tears sliding down his cheeks. He dropped the toy Pegasus he was holding, but Percy caught it and brought it close to his face.

"Who's this?"

"Mr. Sky," the kid mumbled.

"Oh. Can he fly like this?" The teenager lifted the toy into the air, making whooshing noises. The little kid laughed and clapped his hands, his tears forgotten for the moment.

"I'll let you in a little secret," Percy said, "but you have to promise not to tell anyone."

The kid nodded, once again clutching his toy. Percy lowered his voice to a stage whisper, and Bruce felt himself leaning in. "I can talk to horses, and Mr. Sky says that your mom is around here somewhere. She's looking for you, and she's going to scoop you up and hug you so tight, it'll be like you never lost her."

"Really?"

Percy nodded wisely. "That's what Mr. Sky says."

"Evan!"

A young woman came running over and Evan's face split into a large grin.

"Mommy!" He reached out, and Percy passed him over to the young woman. Evan's mother hugged him tightly, and Bruce chuckled when he saw the kid's eyes widen. He looked down at the toy and back at Percy.

"Thank you for watching him," the woman said. "I turned around for one moment and he was gone!"

Percy shrugged. "No problem."

He waved at Evan as they left the store, and returned to the book he'd been looking at. He pulled it back off the shelf, humming under his breath.

"That was a nice thing you did there," Bruce said quietly.

Percy looked up, surprised. "What? Oh the kid." He shrugged on shoulder. "I remember getting lost in stores. It's always much scarier when you're little."

His fingers drummed a steady rhythm on the book he was holding. Bruce tilted his head to see the cover. " _Babies for Dummies._ That's quite a read."

Percy blushed. "Oh, it's not for me—well, the book is for me not the…." He flushed again and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Uh, let me try that again. My mom's having a baby girl and I have no clue how to handle babies. I want to be a good big brother, you know? I don't want to mess it up."

Bruce smiled, the image of the teenager earlier coming to mind. "From what I just saw, I think you'll be fine."

Percy's green eyes widened and he grinned. "You have no idea what that means to me. Thanks."

He glanced down at the book in front of Bruce and squinted. "Oh, my girlfriend's reading that book. She won't stop talking about it."

"Maybe I'll give it a read," Bruce said.

A few minutes later, Percy had purchased two books. He gave Bruce a two-fingered salute. "I'll see you around."

Bruce smiled and waved a hand as Percy left. The smile faltered as he watched the teenager stroll into the street, walking as if he didn't even feel the rain pelting down on his shoulders. He didn't even break his stride as he walked through a large puddle.

Bruce adjusted his glasses and frowned. From where he was sitting, it looked as if the rain didn't even touch the bag of books in his hand.

In seconds, Percy turned a corner and was out of sight.

Bruce sipped his tea. He continued reading.

 **XXXXXXXX**

 **As promised, an update!**

 **It looks as if some Avengers are catching onto the fact that something's a little off about our Friendly Neighbourhood Demigod.**

 **Speaking of "Friendly Neighbourhood," I finally got around to watching Homecoming and WOW. I'm in love with Tom Holland's portrayal of Spidey! So many feels right there. I've got another chapter involving Spidey planned, but it's going to be a while before I get there.**

 **A side note: I'm low-key (hehe Loki) freaking out about Infinity War because I still haven't seen Ragnarok or Black Panther, and my heart is not ready! There will be blood if something happens to Tony, Peter, or Bucky.**

 **Another side note: how does one do those pleasing line breaks? Because I've done it once and for the life of me I can't figure out how to do it again and the things I do use keep disappearing...**

 **I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up. I'm taking time to work on my original pieces and my other fic is in dire need of an update.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or Percy Jackson. If I did, imagine how much trouble I'd cause!**

 **Thanks for all the awesome reviews! I hope you enjoyed this latest installment of SIGTIMLN (that's a mouthful). Let me know what you think.**


	9. Captain

**Chapter 9: Captain**

Percy squinted at the writing on the plaque. The hieroglyphs, bold and black against a background that imitated aged papyrus, stared back at him. Idly, he wondered if the giant Eye of Horus on display was actually staring at him.

He sighed and tapped his pencil against his notebook. Out of all the ancient civilizations, he had to be assigned to Egypt. He was hoping for Greek. Hades, he would have even taken Roman history. At least he could hang around New Rome and ask some actual people instead of spending a perfectly sunny day cooped up in a museum.

But no, he had to get Egyptian. Worse, he had to write an essay about their pantheon and, after listening to Carter for an hour, he still hadn't a clue about most of what the magician had been talking about. Despite that, Percy debated whether he could sit through another lecture if it would help get the research done faster. When it came to mythology, he'd always found it easier to have someone explain it than trying to figure it out himself.

He stepped back as a group of elementary kids crowded around the display. One of them laughed and pointed at the mannequin of Anubis, and barked at his friend. His teacher scolded him, and he ducked his head and grinned at the floor.

Percy glanced sidelong at the mannequin. He hadn't had the privilege of meeting any of the bigshot Egyptian gods, and, well, he hoped that he'd never have to. Three pantheons were enough for him.

Man, he really needed to focus. Maybe he _should_ call one of the Kane siblings. Maybe Sadie was free. Wait, no. she'd mentioned that she was traveling to see her grandparents for the week.

Percy sighed again and forced himself for the tenth time to concentrate on the information plaque. The words danced in front of him.

Nope. He was done.

He shoved his notebook into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. Maybe Annabeth could help him. She was currently in an interview for an internship. Weaving slowly through the crowd, he glanced at his watch. She was probably done now. He still had two hours before he was meeting her for lunch at the shawarma restaurant that was famous for somehow surviving the Chitauri Invasion the year before.

He skirted around another school group. He hadn't realized how many kids came to the museum would be on a Friday afternoon. He'd hoped that by coming in his free block, he'd miss the crowds.

Shaking his head, Percy adjusted his backpack and headed for the exit of the Egyptian exhibit.

He stopped abruptly.

A tall, broad-shouldered man was viewing a display not far from him. His blonde hair was obscured by a cap, and the collar of his jacket was pulled up. He stood with his back straight, his posture relaxed, but still alert. Like a soldier. Percy's eyes widened as he realized that he was staring Captain Steven Rogers, World War Two Veteran, Super Soldier, and Avenger.

 _Oh wow, he's even taller in person._

Captain Rogers moved his head minutely, glancing to the side as if to look at another part of the display. There was a slight frown on his face. Percy followed his gaze.

A few meters away, a woman with a notebook in hand was staring at him. A little camera was slung around her neck. Every now and again, she'd scribble something down before resuming her staring.

Percy rolled his eyes. Reporter. Typical.

He had to feel for the guy. The hero couldn't catch a break. Clint had mentioned that a SHIELD agent had been assigned to trail the war hero from the moment he left the SHIELD compound until he moved into Stark Tower where Stark himself chased them off. The Captain probably couldn't even go for a run without someone recognizing him.

As he watched, the Captain moved to a different display where the crowd was a little thicker.

Percy followed. He stopped right next to him, close enough for the Captain to hear him when he spoke under his breath.

"Captain Rogers, right?"

The Captain stiffened. "Can I help you?" he answered quietly. He glanced toward the other display where the reporter was searching.

"The Greek section has its own room at the far end. No one goes there because they keeping changing the maze's layout." Percy glanced sidelong at him. "Perfect for losing reporters in."

Captain Rogers arched an eyebrow. He seemed to weigh his options before nodding. "Lead the way."

Percy shrugged and walked slowly through the throngs of people. He caught sight of the Captain following a few meters behind in the reflection of a display case. He rounded a corner and ducked into the entrance of the maze. Captain Rogers appeared moments later just as a large crowd hurried past.

The reporter glanced around before walking off, a scowl etched across her face.

Captain Rogers released a slow breath and turned to him. "Thanks. She's been following me all morning."

"No problem," Percy said. "She seems very dedicated. It's an honour to meet you, by the way, Captain Rogers."

"Please, call me Steve. Captain Rogers is too formal for me."

Percy nodded. He knew what that felt like.

"What brings you here?" he asked.

Steve shrugged. "Sightseeing. This place had just opened when I went to war. I used to come here with my friend. Tony said it would be a good experience to get out of the Tower. You?"

"School project. Essay on the Egyptian Pantheon, my favourite," Percy added dryly.

"From what I remember, the pantheon is extensive."

"You have no idea."

Steve looked around the maze. "This wasn't here when I last came," he said.

"It's pretty new," Percy replied. "They like to change it up once in a while to imitate Daedalus' Labyrinth."

"Well, since I'm here, do you know how to get through the maze?"

"I've done it a few times."

Steve gestured to him. "Lead the way."

As Percy had guessed, the maze wasn't busy. They walked for a while in silence, passing murals of the Greek gods and various myths and monsters. It didn't take long to reach the middle. Mazes never took Percy long to navigate anymore. Maybe it was because he'd had navigated the real Labyrinth years before.

The center display was a detailed mural of the Olympians on their thrones. Each one had a plaque describing their contribution and the deeds that they were known for. He noticed that both Hades and Hestia had their own plaques. That hadn't been there the last time he'd come. Granted, the last time he'd come was when he was fifteen, before the Titan War. It must have been done during the time he'd had no memories.

He couldn't help but glance at Steve who was reading Athena's plaque. In a way, they'd both missed things. "It must have been hard waking up here," Percy said. "How are you managing?"

Steve seemed surprised by the question. "As well as I can," he replied. "The team is very supportive. Tony went ahead and made a list of all the things I should look at, but—" he shrugged, "—I still feel out of my depth. There's so much I missed out on. Less than a year ago, I was trudging through the mud and fighting HYDRA soldiers. Now I'm living in a high-tech building with its own AI. That took some getting used to."

He sobered. "People expect me to be the soldier and walk it off but it's difficult. My whole life was uprooted. Most of my friends have passed on. That's hard to move on from."

Sometimes it was easy to forget that the heroes were just normal people too. Hearing Steve, Percy realized that he sometimes had to be reminded that too. He'd had to pretend to be strong in the face of adversary before. Never show a weakness for the good of his fellow demigods. There were always those who saw right through his act. Annabeth was one of them, and Grover too. Clint, he'd realized recently, was another. Did Steve have anyone like that?

"There will always be people who don't understand," Percy said. "You can't change that. You've just got to find the people who get you. Having a group like that means that you can get through anything."

"You sound like you speak from experience."

"I've held the weight of the world on my shoulders before. I've made enough difficult decisions to know what I'm talking about," Percy said quietly.

He glanced up at the mural of Hermes. His own decisions had caused him to lose those he cared about. And now he was afraid that he was going to lose someone else.

His role as a guardian meant that he had to figure out what was right for both the mortals he helped and his own people. It had been so easy, but after recent events, things had got a whole lot harder.

After Clint and Natasha had witnessed the demigods come in, Percy panicked. He'd been so focused on saving Travis' life that he'd all but forgotten that the Avengers had been there. Long after the ambrosia had done its work, the son of Hermes had spiraled into a state of fanboy shock at the fact that the Black Widow had been standing in the same room as them. His fanboying had snatched Percy out of his demigod-driven instinct and into the present, pressing situation: the fact that there were mortals had just witnessed what had happened.

By then, the two spies had left.

He didn't know whether that was a blessing or a curse. Them leaving meant that he'd put off explaining the group of injured teenagers that had nearly bashed his door down. But putting it off wouldn't solve anything. If years of watching the gods do the same thing had taught Percy one thing, it was that ignoring the problem wouldn't make it go away.

The events of that day and the problems it brought with it ate away at him for days. Finally, fed up, Percy made his way to camp in search of guidance—someone that would see the situation in a different light and hopefully help him figure out what to do. As he had passed the campfire, he found just who he was looking for.

Hestia listened intently as he told her what was on his mind. When he'd finished explaining, she'd slowly brushed the glowing coals of the hearth with her fingers before smiling warmly.

"It is your sanctuary," she'd said. "If you trust the Avenger, then tell him. It is easier to work together if there are no secrets between you. Secrets will only brew trouble, dear."

Her words helped. Percy did trust Clint. He trusted the guy with his life. He never asked questions, something that Percy was grateful for. He rarely commented when Percy blatantly evaded talking about his family or anything involving his unplanned trips. He seemed to understand that there were some things that Percy couldn't tell him.

A week passed. Clint came to visit. He didn't mention what had happened aside from asking if Percy's friend was alright. Still, the question hung in the air. Percy feared that one day Clint would get fed up with Percy's evasions, and would leave and never come back. Percy didn't want that to happen.

He was allowed to tell him, but the idea set him on edge. One part of him knew that the Avenger would understand, but the other part replayed all the things that could go wrong. What if Clint didn't trust him anymore? What if SHIELD caught wind of him? Percy was surprised that agents hadn't come knocking on his door already. If they found out about demigods…Percy didn't even want to imagine what would happen. The last thing he wanted was to put his family in danger.

But how could Percy keep helping the heroes if he kept his whole world a secret?

"Something on your mind?"

Percy blinked. He'd forgotten that Steve was there. The Avenger was watching him, concerned. Percy shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "Just thinking."

"Anything I can help with?"

Percy stared sidelong at him. He almost said no, almost brushed him aside, but…well, Steve knew Clint personally. Maybe he would know what to do.

"…How do you know that the decision you're going to make is the right one?"

Steve thought for a moment. "I guess it depends on the circumstances."

"Well…" Percy hesitated again. He'd have to choose his next words very carefully. "I've got this friend. He never asks questions even though I know he wants to. And I've got all the answers to his questions. I want to tell him, but I'm worried that if I do, it'll end badly. But I'm worried that if I don't tell him, things could go wrong too."

"What would happen if you told him?"

"It's not something I can just shout to the world."

"Do you trust him to keep it a secret?"

Percy faltered. "Yeah."

"Then what's stopping you?" Steve asked. "Are you afraid about how he'll react? Because from what you've told me, he's got a good grip on the situation even without you saying anything."

Percy sighed. He already knew that.

Steve studied him. "If you want my advice, I'd tell him. It's not good to keep secrets from your friends."

The demigod paused. He let out a huff of laughter. "You know, someone said to me, too." He rubbed the back of his neck and groaned. Why had this been so dam difficult to figure out? He'd fought in two wars, for Hades' sake! And this was Clint! Their first meeting all those months ago was a stellar example of how weird their friendship was.

"Thanks. I think you helped me clear this up. Honestly, I'm not sure why I worried. This guy should be the easiest person to tell. He's not exactly an uptight sort of guy. He once came in through the window and raided my fridge because coming through the door like a normal person wasn't enough of a challenge."

Steve chuckled. "Your friend reminds me of our resident archer."

 _You have no idea,_ Percy thought with a grin. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

Steve glanced around. "That reporter's gone now. We should probably find our way back."

"Yeah."

They walked in companionable silence. Fifteen minutes later, they exited the maze. The crowd had thinned now that the school groups had left.

Steve's phone buzzed. He fished it out of his pocket. "That's probably Tony wondering where I am. I should get going before my team destroys something. Good luck with your paper, by the way."

"Right." Percy had forgotten about that. "Thanks."

"Hey," he said as Steve turned to leave. "I don't know if it's for you, but I know they do sessions for veterans around the city. My step-dad's friend says it really helps."

Percy had gone with Paul after Clint had confronted him. He hadn't participated—most teenagers in Manhattan hadn't fought in two wars, and participation would have raised suspicion—but he'd chatted with some of the veterans while Paul caught up with an old college friend. It had been nice.

Steve seemed to consider it. "I might just look into it." He pulled out a notebook and jotted something down. He nodded to himself and tucked it back into his jacket. "I'll see you around."

Percy shot him a lopsided grin and a two-fingered salute.

Steve adjusted his cap and disappeared into the crowd in the direction of the entrance.

Percy glanced at his watch. He sighed, seeing that there was still enough time to do a bit more research, and made his way back to the Egyptian section. He settled on a bench, and pulled out his notebook, pointedly ignoring the fact that the Anubis mannequin had moved slightly to the right.

At the entrance of the museum, Steve shielded his eyes from the sun. His phone buzzed again, and he put it to his ear. "I'm on my way, Tony."

"Oh, that's great, Capsicle. Because we've got a mission."

* * *

 **Ha.**

 **So I'm still here. Hello, hello!**

 **This chapter has haunted me for the three months since I've updated this story. I wanted to fully grasp Percy's dilemma and tie it into the AU as well as I could before I go all out with the Avengers. (What? is this a plot forming?) I kept going back and changing things because I wasn't happy with it. (Heck, I almost scrapped the chapter entirely!) But you know what? I'm alright with it now, so here it is.**

 **I'm also working on the next chapter so woohoo! I promise the wait won't be as long as last time.**

 **You may also be wondering why Percy only mentioned knowing about three different pantheons. I mentioned in an earlier chapter that I wasn't going to include Magnus Chase and the Norse gods simply because it wouldn't fit in with the story since the MCU Thor and Norse Mythology Thor are quite different.**

 **Also Infinity War? um my heart is a very important organ and i'd like it back please.**

 **(we're going to be ignoring it for this au bc i'm too attached to these characters to h m... (you know where im going with this)**

 **Thanks to those of you who showed me how to do the divider-line-break-thingy, and t** **hank you so much for your patience. I hope the wait was worth it. Let me know what you think!**


	10. SHIELD

**Chapter 10: SHIELD**

Clint was having a bad morning.

If he were to be honest, he was having a bad week. He blamed it all on Fury and the stupid mission.

Investigate numerous locations in separate states to see if anything unusual had happened there in the last few months. Interview a couple people—most of them teenagers, might he add—and report back to the boss-man as soon as they landed back in New York. The flight back from San Francisco had been terrible. The Quinjet had run into major turbulence both on the way there and back. When they'd finally landed, a freak thunderstorm had grounded them for hours. They'd spent a miserable day taking shelter in a little strip mall while rain pelted down outside. He'd been relieved to land back at the Tower, ready to sleep for a week.

Of course, his brain had other ideas.

It was like someone had flipped a switch. He lay there for hours, willing sleep to come, and cursing at the darkness when it didn't. What little sleep he did get was filled with strange dreams of people with goat hooves for feet and volcanoes that spewed water.

In the morning, his shower water had turned from scalding to freezing, leaving him anything other than refreshed. Not to mention the fact that he'd left his window open and a freak storm had left him with a sopping wet uniform which he totally had not dropped on the floor the night before.

Needless to say, Clint was in a very bad mood.

He scowled at the mess on the floor. He'd deal with that later. Probably. Turning his back to it, he picked through another pile of clothing that he'd forgotten to put away, and found a sweater and threw it on. He trudged into the kitchen scowling and grumbling under his breath.

Bruce was sitting at the counter, nursing a mug of tea. He raised an eyebrow at Clint's rumpled appearance. "Bad night?"

Clint grunted at him. He shuffled past Bruce as Thor bounded in.

"Doctor Banner," Thor boomed. "'Tis a fine morning! Was the team's mission a success?"

The prince of Asgard had been called back to his home for a few days, leaving them one man down for the Fury's secretive mission. It would have helped to have the god of thunder during the storm.

"Not sure yet," Bruce replied, "Since we don't know what we were looking for. I take it your trip back to Asgard went well."

"Yes. Odin wished to renew a treaty with old allies. He had me speak with their king since we have much in common. It went well. We had a mighty feast to celebrate, but I am glad to be back."

Typical. Thor has to enjoy a feast while Clint got to spend time chasing ghosts and standing in the rain. He opened the cupboard and frowned. "Where's my mug?"

"Your mug?" Bruce repeated.

"My mug. The purple one with the dog on it."

"You used it yesterday," Natasha replied as she walked in. Smartly dressed and looking like she'd been up for hours, she reached over Clint's shoulder and pulled another mug out for herself.

"Yeah, but I washed it and put it right here." He indicated to the highest shelf.

"You must be mistaken."

Clint grumbled and pulled another mug out of the cupboard. He reached for the coffee pot, but Natasha grabbed it first. She smiled at him as she poured the dark, life-giving liquid into her own mug and took a sip. Clint glared at her and snatched the coffee pot and poured his own.

The elevator dinged, and Pepper's voice drifted into the kitchen. "This is the common room for the Avengers. You won't have to come up here often, but I may send you in if needed."

She passed the kitchen, followed by a very familiar blonde.

Clint stared. He nudged Bruce.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. She's Pepper's new intern. Annabeth Chase, I think."

OH.

Clint caught Natasha's eye and raised an eyebrow. She shrugged.

Percy had mentioned that his girlfriend was applying for an internship. He'd just failed to mention where. Or that she'd been accepted. Clint glanced out of the window. From this height, he could almost see the glint of the ocean. His mind drifted back to Percy. What was he doing now? It had been a few weeks since he'd gone to visit.

Memories of the way the kid had reacted to danger surfaced. He'd become another person, speaking like someone who had had experience given orders. In moments, Percy had had the situation under control, dealing with the other kid's wounds as if he'd done it countless times in the past. And the others had listened to him without question. It could have been because the situation had been pressing, but Clint suspected that it had been something else.

"You alright, Clint?" Bruce asked, drawing him back to the present. "You've been staring at nothing for five minutes."

"I'm fine. Tired," he said and took a swig of his coffee.

"Oh, good, you're all here." Steve nodded as he strode in. Knowing him he'd been in the gym since who the hell knows when. "Team meeting in five."

Clint glared at his back and downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp. He shuffled over to the coffee pot and poured himself another cup.

Fury was already engaged in a conversation with Steve. Idly, Clint wondered why he didn't just call via the huge flat screen Stark had installed for that purpose. He collapsed into the chair next to Natasha, content to count the rivet on the ceiling until someone started the meeting. They were still waiting for Tony.

He'd counted two-hundred-and-one and was slouching half-way off the chair before Stark strolled, coffee in one hand. Clint pushed himself up. He balked.

That was his mug!

Tony saw him staring and held his mug up with a smirk before turning to the Director. "Nick! You're here in person! What happened to making minimal contact and letting us do our own thing?"

"That was never an option, Stark," Fury said.

"Are you sure?"

"This mission is sensitive. SHIELD headquarters is not an appropriate place to discuss this particular situation."

"What? You don't trust your own organization?"

"Tony," Steve warned. He did, however, cast a look of impatience at the Director. "Are you finally going to tell us what the mission is? I don't like my team going in blind."

" _I_ want to know what's so special about those places you wanted us to investigate," Tony pitched in again. "Nothing out of the ordinary, besides the fact that Manhattan, superhero central, is a little more active than usual."

Fury eyed him. After a good ten seconds, he turned his attention to the rest "A matter of security had come to my attention. Those places I had you investigate have been locations of high interest in the past few years. Manhattan, as Stark pointed out, has been highly active. Brooklyn, Long Island, San Francisco, and lastly, Greece.

"We've reached out to numerous people trying to collect information on what's going on, but every time we get close to something, evidence vanishes or the informants duck out. As of now, we have one lead."

He slapped a folder on the table.

"The target's name is Percy Jackson."

Clint choked on his coffee.

"Something you'd like to say, Barton?"

"No I...the name sounds familiar." He made a point of grabbing the file and opening it and squinting at a covert photograph of _Percy_ sitting on the edge of a fountain in Central Park. "I've probably seen him somewhere."

In his house. Watching a movie marathon after raiding the fridge. In the training room trying to get the kid to spar with him. Spending hours debating whether to finally confront him about the danger he always got himself into and the stories that just didn't add up. Hours worrying for the safety of a kid who seemed to attract trouble like a magnet.

"Let me see." Steve held his hand out and Clint handed him the photograph. He handed the other few out as well. "Funny. I've met him as well. About a week ago."

"You're kidding," Tony said.

"I've met him too," Bruce spoke up. Clint looked at him sharply. "He didn't seem like a bad person."

"Seriously?" Tony exclaimed. "How am I the only one who hasn't met this kid? Come on, Nat."

Natasha looked up with a bored expression on her face. "A teenager who's wanted by the government? No, can't say I have."

"Thor?"

The Norse God had been silent for a while. His brow was furrowed, his good mood gone. "I have not met him, no," he said. "Does he really pose a threat to SHIELD?"

"I don't know what he does," Fury said. "Which is why I want to know. Over the past few years, Jackson has appeared on our radar. He's been kicked out of six schools and has had run-ins with authorities on multiple occasions, including a man-hunt when he was twelve. Every single event he's been a part of has miraculously resolved itself with no questions asked. I want to know who's behind it and why. There's a possibility that a secret terrorist organization is involved, seeing as destruction seems to follow Jackson like a plague. We think it leads back to his biological father."

"What about his mother's family?" Steve asked. "Anything off with them?"

"Sally Jackson is clean as far as we can tell. She's remarried twice, shortly after his son's birth and again two years ago. We are, however, investigating the disappearance of Gabe Ugliano, her first husband, since it happened around the same time my sources say that Jackson has had contact with his biological father."

It struck Clint that he'd never known the name of Percy's first stepfather. Percy had never brought him up.

"You think it's connected?" Bruce asked.

Fury leveled his gaze at the doctor. "I don't believe in coincidences. Jackson's stayed under the radar for now, but we managed to pinpoint his location yesterday. He lives alone. The house is listed under one Poseidon Olympia, presumably, his biological father. There are no records of this man in SHIELD or any other government organization I have access to."

"I'm sending in a team to question him. Your job will be to be on standby if something goes wrong. I want Stark scanning the house while the rest of you perimeter the area. Romanoff, I want you to accompany my agent in."

The spy nodded. Her face was blank, but Clint had known her long enough to know that her mind was spinning together a plan.

"Remember, this is only a recon mission, but be ready. Jackson is notorious for slipping through the fingers of authorities."

"Well, at least we know what we're doing," Steve said as they left the meeting room. "Though I don't like the idea of going after someone so young."

Clint nodded, not really listening. He stopped and patted his pocket. "I left my earpiece in my room. Meet you there?"

He didn't wait for a response as he strode off.

Annabeth was off to the side in the hallway, jotting a couple notes down in her book when he made his way back, earpiece in hand.

He bumped into her, startling both of them. "Ah, sorry, I didn't see you there," he apologized. "Ms..."

"Chase," Annabeth said. "Annabeth Chase. It's not a problem."

He gave her a once-over. "Ah, Pepper's new intern. Taking notes. Good call. She's very particular about how things get done." Clint smiled. "I'll see you around, then."

As he turned the corner, he saw her pull out the note he'd slipped into her pocket.

* * *

From his vantage point on the roof, Clint could see into the living room. The sky was an ugly grey. The clouds threatened to burst. A strong breeze blew through the area.

Thor kept glancing up at the sky. He wore civilian clothes, his hair pulled back. His hand kept twitching as if he wanted to call his hammer.

His own hand itched to go for his bow. Something in the air made him uncomfortable as if he wasn't welcome. That pull that seemed to guide him to the house had vanished, and he suppressed a shiver.

"They're walking to the door now," Tony's voice said in his ear. Clint couldn't seem him, but he knew the Iron Man suit was within range to fight if things went awry. "Jarvis, start scanning the house. See if anything interesting comes up."

Clint seriously hoped that whatever came up wasn't interesting at all. He saw movement from inside when the agent rang the doorbell, he adjusted the earpiece that they were all equipped with so that they could hear what was going on inside.

A few moments passed before Percy opened the door. He started when he saw them, a quizzical expression crossing his face. "Um, can I help you?"

The agent pulled out his badge. "Mr. Jackson, we're with SHIELD. We have some questions."

Percy opened the door wider. "Uh, sure. Come in."

Natasha brushed past the agent and stepped in. "Nice place you have here."

"Thanks," Percy replied. He leaned against the counter. "What can I help you with?"

The agent started. "When you were twelve, you were involved in a manhunt, correct?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. Some guy kidnapped me and some friends and took us across the state, but that was years ago. Why are you bringing it up now?"

"We're just clearing up some facts," the agent said.

"Sorry, I've never talked to government people before. You're with SHIELD? Isn't that like aliens and super-powered people?"

"Strategic Homeland Intervention and Logistics Division."

"And this has to do with me how?"

"Your biological father. Have you had contact with him recently?" the agent pressed. "I assume he paid for the house and the trip you and a couple kids went on a few months ago."

There it was. The stiffening of Percy's shoulders that occurred whenever his father was brought up. "Yeah. He contacted my mom after the manhunt. He said he was worried about us."

"Shortly after that, your step-father, Gabe Ugliano, disappeared. Can you tell us about that?" the agent said.

At the mention of the man, Percy's expression darkened. "Gabe was a pig and a monster. I don't know what happened to him if that's what you're asking. He just up and left. We never heard from him again, not that we'd want to." From his view, Clint saw Percy's fists clench. "We're fine on our own."

"Last year, Goode High School, you disappeared without warning for six months. Where did you go?" Natasha broke in, turning the conversation to relatively safe ground. It was still bordering on dangerous territory. Percy wouldn't react lightly to the fact that SHIELD had tracked him or his friends, just like he wouldn't react lightly to people prying in on something he didn't want to talk about. He'd obviously practiced his responses, but all the same, Clint found himself leaning closer. After all, good cover stories had to hold some truth.

For what it was worth, Percy sounded a little less aggravated. He huffed and crossed his arms. "I was with family in San Francisco. We'd been planning the trip for months, but there was an emergency. I went without my mom and ended up staying."

"You were seen in Greece with a group of teenagers," the agent said.

"Did you track me?"

"Answer the question."

Percy scowled. "We met up there during the summer before heading back at the end of summer. And yes, some of us stopped in San Fran before heading back here."

"You seem to get around," the agent noted. Clint wanted to smack him across the head.

"Is there a problem with that?" he countered, his voice low.

"That's what we'd like to figure out."

"Have you been approached by anyone?" Natasha asked. "Besides us. Vigilantes, people asking for favours."

Percy stared at her, incredulous. " _Vigilantes_? Are you serious? What? Do they just randomly knock on people's doors now?"

"Is that a no?"

"What do you think?"

Clint's lip twitched. Percy wasn't doing half a bad job throwing them off his trail. He was defensive, but so would anyone else who had just discovered that a government organisation had been tracking them. His story coincided with their information, and his reaction to vigilantes was enough to slow their investigation for the time being. However, once Tony found the incriminating secret rooms, SHIELD would issue a search warrant.

"Look," Percy said, "I have no clue why SHIELD wanted to dig up some old case, but that doesn't give you the right to go making my life difficult. So, if there isn't anything else you'd like, I'd like to ask you to leave." it wasn't a request.

Natasha inclined her head. "Of course," she said sweetly. "Thank you for your time." she made her way towards the door, prompting the agent to follow in suit. It looks like SHIELD was leaving. For now.

Tony's voice filtered through his earpiece. "The place checks out. There's nothing here. I don't know what I was expecting, but it's just a house."

What? That wasn't possible. How the hell had Tony missed the entire hidden section of the house? Or the giant training area and freaking armoury?

He didn't say anything, instead, kept his eyes trained on the scene before him.

Natasha was already walking towards the car. The agent turned to Percy one last time.

"Don't leave the state, Mr. Jackson. We'll be in touch."

Percy watched the car drive off. Once it was gone, he seemed to deflate. He dropped onto the couch and ran a hand through his hair. He turned his head to stare out the window. Clint froze, sure that he'd seen him.

But Percy's tired gaze was focused behind him. Clint craned his neck to see, but there was nothing there. The sky was still an ugly grey. In the distance, he could make out the silhouette of the Empire State Building, its mass arching upwards, and its tip obscured by clouds.

* * *

They returned to SHIELD headquarters in time to see a strikingly beautiful woman stride out of Fury's office, a clipboard in hand. Her blonde hair was clipped up elegantly and she walked with such purpose that SHIELD agents hastily stepped out of her way. Clint could have sworn he'd seen her somewhere before.

Inside the office, Fury stood at the window, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared out at the city.

"Sir?" the Captain said.

The director of SHIELD turned to face them. He was fuming. "The case is closed," he bit out. "Forget about what you heard today. Forget about the mission. Forget about Percy Jackson. I never want to hear that name again. You're dismissed."

* * *

That night had found Clint climbing through the unlocked window and confronting the teenager for some much-needed answers.

"Alright, how did you do it?"

Percy looked up from his notebook. "Do what?" he asked innocently.

Clint threw his hands in the air. " _This!_ Not get caught."

"Annabeth texted me. We jammed the scanners."

"Stark's scanners? That's impossible! They're some of the highest tech out there! I warned her that you'd be prepared for questioning, not so that you could magically turn your house normal! SHIELD literally has nothing on you. All cases dropped as of five hours ago, so unless you have some amazing superpower that I don't know about, there's no way you pulled it off on your own."

"I have contacts in high places."

"Higher than SHIELD?"

Percy looked him straight in the eye. "Would you believe me if I said yes?"

Clint stared at him, aghast. "You're serious."

Percy didn't answer.

Clint rubbed his forehead. The ridiculousness of this whole situation surfaced and he let out a sound of frustration.

"Kid, this is insane!" he exclaimed. "You disappear for months and come back with stories that, frankly, don't add up. You get a house. You're helping heroes like you've been doing it all your life. And now you manage to evade _SHIELD_? None of this makes sense. We went through files, visited locations, and investigated cases that were mysteriously solved just like this one. You were kidnapped and blew up a freaking arch! When you were twelve! And I know there's more that we don't know and I'm almost too afraid to ask."

He sighed and sat on one of the stools, suddenly feeling very drained. "Look, I know you want to help others, I know how that feels, but I can't stop thinking about the possibility of you crossing the wrong people and getting into more trouble than you can handle. Those kids? That's a regular occurrence and don't deny it. Whoever did that to them could do that to you too. I'm worried sick," he admitted. He wasn't being selfish, he told himself as he steeled himself to ask what he'd wanted to since he'd first met Percy. "I've tried to ignore it, but I need answers."

Percy had averted his gaze. His hands were curled into fists, and he was as still as a statue.

"You might not like the truth," he said quietly.

Clint's expression softened. "I'm your friend here, Percy. I'm not SHIELD, not an Avenger. Let's talk, just me and you."

"It's complicated," he said lamely.

"I can handle complicated."

Percy huffed a laughed. "Not this time."

"Give me something," Clint replied. "I'd take anything at this point."

Percy sighed. He glanced out the window before looking down at his hands. He uncurled his fingers and straightened them against the countertop. There was a slight tremble to them.

In that moment, Clint realized that no matter who he was or who he was involved with, he was ready to defend Percy from whatever was after him. He'd known that from the moment Fury had mentioned his name.

So he waited. Waited for Percy to decide what to say. Waited, as he always had, for the kid to give him the answers he needed. And something told him that once Clint knew, there was no going back.

Percy expression hardened, and he looked up, and suddenly, the carefree mask fell away, revealing a soldier beneath. His sea-green eyes were blazed with determination.

"I'm a demigod," he said.

That stopped Clint short. "What, like the Roman legends?"

"Greek, actually."

"So you're descended from the Greek gods," Clint clarified. Honestly, he'd been expecting something else entirely.

"Pretty much," he said. "Look, I know it sounds crazy but it's true. The Greek gods are real. So is every monster you can think of. That's why I had to leave so unexpectedly and it's why SHIELD was so interested in me. We're usually much better at staying out of the spotlight, but recently, things got out of hand. It's a long story. I can't tell you all of it. Some of the things that happened this summer I won't be able to talk about for a long time."

"Tell me what you can," Clint said.

Percy nodded. He took a deep breath and continued. "I found out when I was twelve when the god of the underworld kidnapped my mom. I went on a quest to save her and retrieve Zeus's lightning bolt to stop a war. My life has been a mess ever since. I've met legends and fought giants, made deals with gods, and gone around the world to please those same gods. I've fulfilled more prophecies than I can count while I'm at it. I don't really get a say in it either. I'm a part of a family that's used to getting their way. In tough situations, I'm usually one of the first people they call. And yeah, I'm as bitter as Hades about it, but there's not much a can do. I've seen things I wish I hadn't, done things that I'm not proud of, and I don't even want to know what my SHIELD file says."

"I have an agreement with them now. Demigods don't have long life expectancies, but somehow I'm still alive." He gestured to the house. "This house can't be found by someone with evil intentions. It's a beacon for mortals and demigods alike. I get to help people, Clint. That's all I've ever wanted to do. So yeah, I haven't been truthful, but I have my reasons. "

"And the kids that came in before? Are they like you too?"

Percy nodded.

Clint released a slow breath. The more Percy spoke, the more he realized just how little he knew, just how out of his depth he was. "Okay. Okay, I can handle this. I have breakfast with a Norse God every morning. I can handle being friends with a Greek demigod."

"It's a lot, I know," Percy said. "You should have seen Paul's reaction. Granted," he added, "he _did_ have a hellhound in his living room."

On another day, Clint would have thought Percy was joking, but after everything he'd just heard, he decided to treat whatever Percy had just told him as fact. Right. Greek mythology. Hellhounds are a thing. Why not? "Anything else you'd like to tell me."

Percy looked sheepish. "Uh, yeah. I also…have hydrokinetics. At least that's what Annabeth calls it."

"Hydro-what?"

He met his eye. "I have powers."

"Like a mutant?"

Percy shrugged noncommittedly. "Yeah, let's go with that."

At this point, Clint shouldn't have been surprised. "Show me," he said.

Percy's eyes dropped to the glass on the table. He extended his hand and flicked his wrist upward. The water rose into the air like a snake. It curled into the shape of a trident, and stayed there, suspending in thin air.

Clint's mouth fell open. He reached forward and touched the water. It felt cool to the touch as it coiled around his finger before reshaping itself. Clint's eyes flicked to Percy's face. There wasn't the barest trace of concentration, only a look of distinct relief and that signature lopsided smile.

What could he do if he concentrated? Clint had seen him train with his friends in the training room. Could he use it in a fight as well? That would be pretty handy.

"I've never seen anything like this," he said, withdrawing his hand. It was perfectly dry. "Can the others do this as well?"

Percy lowered his hands and the water dropped back into the glass. "Not with water. But I have a cousin who could probably take on Thor if she tried hard enough, and Nico used to raise hell every second week before Will put him on a strict no-raising-the-dead schedule."

"Huh."

They sat there for a while, Clint sifting through everything that Percy had told him, Percy looking very relieved to have finally told someone. It was like a misaligned cog had snapped back into place. There was no longer an overhanging cloud of secrets. Sure, Percy hadn't told him everything, but it was a start.

There was still one thing Clint didn't understand. "So how _did_ you get Fury to drop the case?" he asked.

The demigod smirked. "Athena's not the goddess of wisdom for nothing. She can be very persuading."

That caused Clint to raise his eyebrows. Talk about divine intervention. "Well, I guess SHIELD's not going to be bothering you again."

"Except for that annoying Avenger," Percy sighed dramatically. "I don't think I'll ever get rid of him now."

"You've got that right, kid," Clint grinned. "Besides, now you've got someone on the inside. SHIELD might be out of your way, but I'm pretty sure you've piqued Tony's interest."

Although, Clint wasn't so certain that there weren't already demigods among the agents. That wasn't something he'd rule out just yet. For now, at least, he could do something to turn prying eyes away from Percy and his friends.

"I guess I should probably tell Nat as well," Percy mused, fiddling with the pen he'd discarded along with his homework. "But I think I'll wait until Annabeth's here when I do that. I'm no good at explaining the technical stuff."

His phone buzzed. He sent a quick text back. "Speaking of Nat, I need to get back before they wonder where I am. I told them I wanted to go get snacks since they disappeared last night. My money's on Steve."

Percy snorted. "My money's on you. You barely leave enough for the rest of us when you're here."

Clint smirked and got to his feet. "Yeah, well, the point is that Tony can't prove it was me."

"Until he installs cameras in the cupboards," Percy said, getting to his feet as well. "Then he'll probably lock the snacks in his lab."

"I welcome the challenge," Clint replied as he strode to the window. He stopped and turned to face him, all humour gone. "Thanks for telling me about all this."

"You deserved to know. Thank you for understanding." Percy smiled, and for the first time in a while, there were no secrets behind his smile.

With a nod, Clint slipped out the window and crept into the night.

A few minutes later, arms laden with bags of snacks, he stopped to find someone admiring his bike. Under the lamplight, his hair shone like gold. A thin golden laurel wreath rested atop his head, which was out of place with his casual clothes. There was something ethereal about him. The teenager saw him standing there and flashed him a blinding smile.

"Cool ride. Not as cool as mine, but not everyone can drive a chariot." The teenager turned to leave. "I'll see you around, Mr. Barton. After all, archers have to stick together."

Clint watched him amble down the road, too startled to do anything else. He blinked and the teenager was gone. He hadn't turned a corner, no. one moment he was there and the next he wasn't.

Was that….?

Clint shook his head. He needed to get back. He loaded his loot onto his bike and adjusted helmet. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he had just witnessed something beyond mortal reasoning. Something—or someone—that, by all means, belonged to myth.

Because as the stranger had disappeared, he'd glimpsed a golden bow and quiver sung across his back.

Clint grinned.

The world just got a hell lot more interesting.

* * *

 **MERRY CHRISTMAS!**

 **I tried to get this posted before midnight, but my laptop died and I had to run around looking for the cord.**

 **Hopefully, this 5,000-word chapter will make up for my horrendous tardiness.**

 **So Clint now knows about the demigod world, or part of it (we all know that Annabeth's better when it comes to explaining these things, but Percy did his best), and he seems to have caught the eye of a certain sun god. SHIELD is not blind to the fact that something is up. Percy may have got rid of them, but what about the Avengers? And what of the other heroes? Our demigod hero is making a lot of friends and there's a certain Devil that is hellbent on not making friends... Also, it's high time we check in with a certain wall-crawler. Ahh i have so many ideas! (now i just need to finish writing them down)**

 **I want to have another chapter up before I start the next semester on the 7th. I've got a heavy courseload so, unfortunately, I won't be able to post until another break. But if I do, hey, it's like a little surprise that we both get to enjoy.**

 **Thanks for all the support and all the amazing comments! Let me know what you think is going to happen next!**


	11. Parker

**I AM BACK, BABY! School is finished, exams are written, creative writing portfolios and papers are handed in. Summer here I come!**

 **I apologize for the wait. I am so, so sorry. You guys are so patient with me and I am truly grateful for that.**  
 **I do have a couple of reasons for not updating, the main reason being that this last semester has been incredibly busy. The second reason is that I've been spending more time working on my novel and I've been trying to finish the plot outline so that I can get to work finishing the first draft.**  
 **Finally, the last reason for my absence has to do with this fic. I had to figure out a plot hole (I.e. Roan couldn't figure out where to put the BIGBIG chapter that we've all been waiting for) since it's pretty much moved away from the MCU timeline. I was also trying to figure out how to end it. My plan is to stop around the events of CAWS. I'm aiming for around 20 chapters so it'll still be a while.**

 **Also, Endgame killed me.**

 **SUPER IMPORTANT READ THIS**

 **Again, since this is an AU, I'm taking quite a few liberties such as with Spidey. I really like Tom Holland's portrayal, but since I'm not following the whole Civil War storyline, I've taken liberties. Now that I've actually seen Homecoming, I've made some necessary alterations for this story.**  
 **As I mentioned in the note in Chapter 2, Spider-Man has been active since a little before the Chitauri Invasion. He hasn't had contact with Tony Stark (yet haha) and has had to figure out everything on his own. So no fancy suit or Karen unfortunately. Ned and Michelle are obviously still present because they're amazing.**  
 **I also plan to bring in the Defenders or at least mention that they're active because they're great.**

 **ANYWAY thank you to everyone who left reviews for the last chapter. I plan to read all of them after I've posted this.**

 **Let me know what you think!**

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Parker**

Spider-Man vaulted over an overflowing dumpster and shot a web at the overhanging fire-escape, twisting out of the way of the deadly claws that gouged the ground where he had just been. His side screamed with each movement, staining his ruined suit an even darker red than it already was. He looked down into the alley out of breath and a little bewildered.

He'd had never seen anything like it. The creature looked like a canine, only its fur dripped and sizzled on the ground, and its claws were so sharp they sliced through stone like it was paper. The civilians had fled as soon as he'd dropped in, webbing the creature to the side of a building, but the thing had just sliced through the webbing and turned its attention to him. It was faster than it looked, too. It snarled up at him, its molten eyes glowing in the dark.

What even was it? An experiment gone wrong? Someone's lost pet? Spider-Man was too exhausted to care. All he wanted was to just finish this fight and go home.

He shot another web at one of the bags of garbage and threw it at the thing. It screeched as the bag exploded all over it, blinding it for a few precious moments as Spidey swung down and kicked it square in the jaw, sending it flying.

Spidey scrambled back up the wall, blood roaring from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. His heart sank as the creature shook itself off, sending showers of acid into the smoking garbage. "Seriously? That was a solid kick!"

His Spider-Sense screamed too late as the creature's claws lunged again with blinding speed. It sliced through the thin fabric of his suit. He yelped as his arm flared with pain. He landed awkwardly, stumbling as the wound in his side made itself known. The arm of his suit was in shreds. The creature just snarled and lunged at him again and he just barely swung out of the way.

Then, it stopped and dropped back on all fours, turning its head to look at something that Spidey couldn't see. In the distance, he thought he heard a whistling noise. The creature shambled away and disappeared.

Spidey got to his feet, wincing as his whole body flared with pain.

 _What the heck just happened?_

His arm and side burned, but upon further inspection, they weren't as bad as he feared. A little rest and some food and they'd heal in no time, though he'd need to restock his first aid after seeing to them. He examined the ruined fabric and groaned.

"I just fixed this," he muttered. He'd spent most of last night sewing the suit up after a number of unfortunate nightly patrols. The thing was more patchwork than anything else, but the fabric was a nightmare to replace. But there would be time for that later.

He stood, wincing as the motion pulled on his side. First, he had to finish patrol and get home.

Hopefully without encountering anymore of those creatures.

* * *

Peter dashed toward the group of people who here filing onto the school bus. He stopped, hands on his knees, gasping for breath.

Coach Wilson arched an eyebrow when he stopped, gasping for breath. "Cutting it close, Mr. Parker."

"Sorry," he wheezed, mentally searching for a suitable excuse that didn't include the fact that patrol had gone way into the early hours of the morning. "My alarm didn't go off."

Flash opened one of the windows and stuck his head out. "We should have just left him."

Peter shouldered his backpack and got on the bus. He slid into an empty seat, pointedly ignoring Flash's loud comments a few seats ahead of him.

"Alright listen up," Coach Wilson said. "When we get to Goode, I don't want to hear about any of you getting into trouble. Remember, we are there to support our fellow Midtown teammates, not start a war. I'm looking at you, Thompson. Do I make myself clear?"

There was a chorus of assent. Peter put on his headphones and let his music drone out his classmates.

A field trip to Goode High School was not something he was particularly interested in. Midtown and Goode were rivals, and the football game today would be a tiebreaker for the season. Peter didn't know or particularly care who won. Supporting their school was an opportunity for extra credit. Peter didn't need the extra credit, but Ned had convinced him to tag along so that he didn't have to suffer by himself. Watching people tackle each other on a field wasn't Peter's go-to entertainment—his other extra-curricular activities gave him enough of that for a lifetime—but he'd agreed, only because Ned had promised him a new idea for his Spidey gear. But then self-proclaimed "Guy in the Chair" had come down with the flu and Peter was left all alone.

And of course, Flash was here, supporting his more athletic friends, so the moment they'd crowded into the bleachers to watch the game, Peter snuck off to find a seat far away from him. Peter was convinced that the bully was a jock in another life solely on how he acted around them. The good news was that Flash was too busy messing around with his buddies to bother Peter.

At least he now had time to work on the homework he'd neglected to do last night. Patrol had run into the early hours of the morning and his bed had seemed way too inviting. He made an idle sketch of the thing that had attacked him last night in the corner of his page. How many teeth had that thing had?

In the back of his mind, his Spider-Sense tingled. Yet another thing that bothered him, though maybe less important than the creature currently roaming around Queens. His Spider-Sense had been warning him of some danger all morning, but no matter where he looked, Peter couldn't find its source. On the way to the field, it had acted up when he'd passed a group of students, and again when he'd passed a student fiddling with a pair of reed pipes. Not exactly dangerous. Eventually, he decided that his extra sense was on the fritz. This was a school. It didn't get more nightmarish than that.

He was still rattled by the thing that had attacked him last night. His senses were probably still reacting to that. He rubbed his arm, feeling the bandage underneath his hoodie. His accelerated healing had done wonders for his injuries, but he'd need to be careful about not reopening them for a few days.

His Spider-Sense tingled as a shadow fell over him, but this time it was familiar and welcoming.

"Is this spot free?"

Peter glanced up and was surprised to find that he recognized the tall senior wearing a GOODE SWIM TEAM jacket. He'd completely forgotten that Percy went to Goode.

"Uh, yeah sure," Peter said, "this spot isn't taken."

"Thanks." Percy dropped onto the bleacher. "You're from Midtown?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah. I'm crowd support."

"Same. My friend's on the team. I thought I'd cheer him on from the sidelines."

"What? Sports not your thing?" Peter asked, already knowing the answer. His alter-ego had spent hours chatting with Percy about the misgivings of sports that didn't include swimming.

"I'd rather climb a rock wall covered in lava. I'm Percy, by the way."

"Peter."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Please don't tell me your last name is Johnson."

"Parker, actually."

"Oh, thank the gods."

He sounded so relieved Peter couldn't help by smile. It was almost surreal talking to him as a civilian. For all the times Spider-Man had spent at Percy's house, Peter had never told him his identity. Of course, Percy had known from the start that he was only a teenager, but for some reason, Peter was okay with that. Superheroes came and went through Percy's door all the time. Peter couldn't explain the sense of security that came with passing the threshold of the home.

Percy rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a container and opened it. He offered it to Peter. "My mom's famous cookies. Want one?"

Peter would never say no to one of Sally Jackson's cookies. As always, they were delicious.

They chatted for a while, idly watching the game. Peter found himself relaxing as he always did around the other teenager, so much so that he had to watch that he didn't say something that would give away his secret identity, but he found that he really did enjoy talking to Percy just as Peter Parker, the average high-schooler.

Naturally, his enjoyment didn't last.

"Hey, Parker!"

Peter groaned as he saw Flash stomping up the bleachers toward him, his face drawn in a sneer. "What? Did you get lost or something? Coach wants us back with the rest of the class."

"I was just sitting with a friend, Flash," Peter said.

Flash sneered. "Yeah, right. Everyone knows that Leeds is the only person stupid enough to be friends with you."

Peter balled his hands into fists. "Don't talk about him like that."

"Make me."

Percy cleared his throat. "Can I help you?"

Flash turned to face him, only to falter at the senior towering a good few inches above him. "Who are you?" Flash demanded.

Percy held out his hand. "Percy Jackson. I was just showing my friend Peter around before you interrupted us." He smiled thinly. The smile did not reach his eyes.

A chill ran down Peter's spine. Alarms blared in the back of his mind, though he knew that he was safe.

Flash had paled considerably, he opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it. "Whatever, Parker." He shouldered past Peter, jostling his arm. Peter bit his lip as dull pain raced up his arm.

Percy watched him go, frowning. "Jerk."

Peter blew out a low exhale, stilling the ringing in his head. "You have no idea. Anyway, I should probably go. It was nice meeting you."

"You too."

Peter waved as he took the bleacher steps two at a time. He ducked his way through the increasing throngs of students heading for lunch, searching for his classmates.

Finally, he caught sight of them on one of the grassy areas near the front of the school where a few of them were already eating lunch. He made a beeline for them, but before he could get even a few steps, a woman stopped him.

"Excuse me, but are you supposed to be here?" The woman's voice was gravelly as if she had been smoking.

"Yes?" Peter replied, caught off guard by the question.

The woman eyed him. Her appearance was disconcerting, her skin looking as if it had been stretched too thinly over her skull and she stood with a slump, and when she spoke, there were too many teeth packed into her mouth.

"I've never seen you around here," she said.

Her hand snaked out, and before Peter could even react, she grabbed his arm close to the bandages that Peter had to bite his lip to stop himself from making a sound. Her beady eyes narrowed as if searching. "You don't look like a Goode student."

Her fingers tightened painfully. "I'm from Midtown," Peter stammered. His Spider-Sense screamed. The woman's eyes narrowed further.

"Parker!" Coach Wilson barked.

The woman's head shot up and her grip loosened. Peter snatched his arm away and all but ran to where his classmates were gathered, heart pounding, senses screaming. When he looked back, the woman was still watching him. Peter shuddered and turned to follow the group.

* * *

Goode won the game. Coach Wilson herded their dejected team back on the bus after the two schools had said their farewells. Peter was pleasantly surprised to find Percy waiting for him near the Midtown High bus. He also noted that Flash gave him a very wide berth.

"I wanted to catch you before you left," Percy said. "No hard feelings, right?"

"We'll get you guys back next time," Peter replied as if either of them actually cared about the game.

Percy smirked. "Miracles can happen."

A flicker of movement from the school caught Peter's eye and he glanced back at the building. The woman stood in one of the windows, unmoving. He turned to ask Percy who she was, but he stopped, the question forgotten. Percy's eyes were trained on the woman, shoulders tense, and one hand in his jacket pocket.

Then he saw Peter watching and gave him an easy smile. He handed Peter a slip of paper with a phone number scrawled across it. "We should hang out sometime. This is my home number."

Peter brightened. "Sure."

Peter was still grinning when he got off the bus at Midtown High. There was a spring to his step as he walked back home, Percy's number already saved onto his phone. Aside from some minor problems, today had gone better than expected. He couldn't wait to tell Ned that he'd met Percy outside of the suit. Maybe they could all hang out sometime. He could even ask Michelle if she wanted to come. She'd like some of Percy's friends.

He was busy deciding whether he'd stop by Percy's house during patrol when he heard it.

Whimpering coming from the alley to his right. Peter slowed.

A figure was hunched in the vacant alley, arms wrapped around themselves. Peter's Spider-Sense tingled quietly in the back of his mind, warning him yet again of some phantom danger. But he couldn't just keep walking when someone might need him.

His backup web shooters were still in his bag. Peter unshouldered the bag and rummaged through his things. His hand closed over his web shooters and he slipped them on.

He crept into the alley. "Hey, are you alright?"

The figure turned its head and Peter caught sight of glowing eyes before his Spider-Sense went haywire. Something slammed into him, sending him crashing the alley wall. Bags of garbage softened his landing, but he shook his head, winded. He struggled to his feet, blinking stars from his vision.

The figure straightened, and with a sickening jolt, Peter recognized the creepy woman he'd met at Goode. She tilted her head to one side. Her arms were no longer human, instead long jagged pincers. When she smiled, there were too many teeth, all sharpened to points.

Behind her, three monsters like the ones that had attacked him the night before licked their lips, saliva dripping in steaming clumps.

"Hello, spider," she said with that too-full smile. "We shall feast well tonight."

Peter scrambled back, intent on putting as much distance between him and those pincers. "Who are you?"

The woman didn't respond. She let out a loud whistle and the monsters snarled and leaped at him.

Peter ran, almost tripping over his own feet. He had to get away. He could climb the nearest building and escape and get help if he could just get out—

One of the monsters cut off his exit. Peter skidded to a stop, inches away from the creature's swiping claws. He spun around and webbed one of the monsters to the wall, and ducked just in time dodge the claw that sailed over his head. His Spider-Sense screamed and he lurched away as claws nicked his shoulder. He landed heavily and his side flared with pain as the motion reopened his wound.

A laugh echoed behind him. The stench of burning garbage cloyed his nose.

 _Get up. Get up!_

But he was paralyzed, staring into the face of the monster as it bore down on him, baring its teeth in a grotesque smile, and all he could think about was the fact that he hadn't said goodbye to his aunt this morning.

 _I'm sorry, Aunt May._

A bronze sword skewered the monster through the head. With a howl, it burst into golden dust. The owner of the sword stood and swung it through the other monster. Golden dust exploded across the alley.

Peter stared up at the back of the GOODE swim team jacket, took in the raven hair, and the scent of sea salt before his eyes fell on the gleaming bronze sword in his saviour's hand.

Percy glanced back at him. "You okay, Peter?"

Peter managed a bewildered "yeah", and Percy nodded before turning his attention to the woman in front of him. "Why don't you drop the disguise."

The woman's face twisted into a grotesque sneer and, right before Peter's eyes, morphed into something that would haunt Peter's dreams for many nights to come. Her skin cracked and blackened, shoulders hunching as her skin grew taut, cracking and blackening as the bones shifted a rearranged themselves. The pincers where her arms had been lengthened until they seemed too heavy to move, and yet Peter had no doubt that she could snap him in half.

"Son of the Sea," the woman bit out, her voice reverberating ominously. "Come a little closer. I will take pleasure in skinning you alive."

"I'd rather not," Percy said. He leveled his sword. "I like my skin how it is: attached to me. But thanks for the offer."

The woman snarled and leaped at him. Percy raised his arm. There was a screech of metal, and a water pipe exploded. Water slammed into the monster, sending it skidding back. The monster screamed. Peter watched, paralyzed as the water followed Percy's outstretched hand, pummeling the woman.

The monster that Peter had webbed to the wall had finally cut itself free. It snarled and leaped at Percy side.

"Watch out!" Peter yelled.

Percy spun on his heel and beheaded it, and it exploded.

The moment of distraction was enough. The woman moved with alarming speed and lunged at him again, but Percy ducked under its deadly pincers and sheered of her right arm. Gold blood sprayed in the air like a fountain. In one swift motion, Percy drove his sword through its chest. The monster let loose a deafening scream before exploding into dust.

Peter's heart leaped into his throat as the last monster lunged at Percy's unprotected back. Without thinking, Peter webbed it to the wall. In a fluid motion, Percy beheaded it. It exploded into a pile of dust, leaving Peter's webbing hanging limply.

Percy straightened. He poked the webbing and then turned and raised an eyebrow. "You know, this makes a lot more sense."

Peter scrambled to his feet. "What just happened? Who was she? You just beheaded someone and then she turned to dust!"

"They're monsters," Percy said, shaking the golden blood off his sword. Then he touched something to its tip and the sword disappeared. "I noticed them following you from Goode. They lock onto people's scent."

"But they came after you," Peter said, still reeling from what had just happened.

Percy shrugged. "Lots of things come after me. It's kind of an everyday expectation."

Peter didn't know whether to laugh or freak out. He really wanted to freak out. He had been attacked by a madwoman who wasn't even a person, freaky monsters, and now Percy had come in sword swinging. Had he been controlling the water? Did Percy have powers? Like a superhero with a secret identity and everything?

He froze. Percy knew who he was.

"I won't tell anyone," Percy said as if he was reading Peter's mind. "I know you didn't want anyone finding out, but you can trust me."

"You're not going to tell me to stop being Spider-Man, are you?" Peter asked hesitantly. "Because I won't listen."

Percy shook his head. "Nah. Besides, I was doing way crazier things than this when I was your age." Somehow, Peter believed him. "Just, do me a favour and, you know," he gestured to the remaining gold dust. "Don't tell anyone about this."

Peter let out a shaky laugh. "I don't think anyone would believe me." He eyed the golden dust that was rapidly dissolving in the puddles of water from Percy's exploding water pipe. "so monsters?"

Percy shrugged. "Greek monsters. I deal with them all the time. It's a long story." Then his expression turned serious. "Look, I know you probably have to get back home, but you look like you could use some first-aid."

Peter blinked. He glanced down. Blood was seeping through a long tear in his shirt. Now that he wasn't dying, his side burned even more than before. He winced and put a hand over it to stem the bleeding. "I'm okay. I'll heal in a few hours."

Percy crossed his arms. "The last time you said that you passed out on my kitchen floor." Peter hesitated. "Come on. Humour me. Either way, we should get moving. I've probably attracted more monsters by killing that one."

Despite his nonchalant tone, Percy left no room for argument. Peter wasn't so sure that Percy would let him go without treating his side, despite his accelerated healing.

"Fine. But you've got to tell me more about those things if they're going to be hanging around here."

"Deal. If you want, I can see if my friend can find a way to upgrade your gear and reinforce your suit. He's good at that type of stuff."

Considering Peter would definitely be taking him up on that.

It turned out that Percy kept a first aid kit in his backpack. He worked with the skill of someone who had patched up countless injuries. Considering how many vigilantes came through his house, including Peter, he wasn't surprised. Although, Peter had to wonder whether he had been patching people long before he'd opened the safe house. His suspicions were confirmed when Percy told him that everything he'd learned about Greek and Roman mythology was more than just myths and that the gods were a thing and that they, along with monsters walked among them, hidden by this thing called Mist. Peter wouldn't have believed him if he hadn't just witnessed it firsthand.

In the days that followed, Peter had the pleasure to meet one Leo Valdez who took one look at him, his ruined suit, and promptly set himself on fire. He then proceeded to pull out a half-finished design and got to work. Apparently redesigning superhero suits was one of his less destructive hobbies.

Percy managed to convince Peter to skip the next few patrols until he was fully healed with the promise that he'd tell him about some of his demigod adventures. Peter readily agreed after Percy had assured him that Queens would survive without him for a few days.

"The Avengers can handle it if something goes wrong," he said. "Hawkeye won't mind patrolling there for a few days."

Ned tagged along, with Percy's permission of course, once he was feeling better. Naturally, he was ecstatic to hear about the heroes that had been protecting their home even before Captain America and asked about a thousand questions which Percy and his friends answered with surprising patience, given how odd Ned's questions could be.

Two weeks later, Peter was handed a box by a bouncing and very sleep-deprived child of Hephaestus.

"So I kept the main design and everything, but the fabric can withstand anything but Greek Fire. I haven't figured that one out yet, but when I do, you'll be the first to know," Leo said. His face was streaked with grease, and he was grinning like a madman. "I also tweaked the web shooters so if you come across more monsters they won't be able to cut through the webbing as quickly."

Peter opened the box and pulled out the suit.

Both Peter's and Ned's mouths fell open. Even Percy looked impressed.

"Nice job. I think that's your best work."

Leo hovered. "What do you think? I wanted to add a mini flamethrower but Percy said that doesn't really go with the whole spider thing, but if you want one, let me know."

The suit looked almost identical to his old one, but more streamlined. The fabric was half the weight of the original, the colours sharper and bolder. It was the same and yet it something about it made it seem so much stronger than his old suit. He took the mask in his hands, feeling a burst of pride and excitement in his chest.

Peter grinned. "I can work with this."


End file.
